We Need to Quit Meeting like This
by Pandiichan
Summary: Multiple prompts. Mostly post-Avengers. Bruce x OC. Bruce x Coriander. The different ways they could've met. All of them were awkward for Bruce Banner. Rated 'M' as a precaution.
1. Starbucks Savior

We Need to Quit Meeting like This

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**AN**: Drabbles. More on Bruce x Cori. Just because; no real reason. **Most of these will happen post-Avengers and are not totally tied to the events of **_Doctor Patient Confidentiality_**.** **Honestly, these are funny little ideas I thought up on the ways that Coriander could've found Bruce Banner, or vice versa**. These ideas aren't necessarily tied together and won't be in chronological order.

Enjoy! Feel free to suggest ideas! I'll try to hit at least a thousand words on all prompts.

Rating is 'M' just to be safe. I don't know where this will take me.

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The Starbucks Savior

Bruce wiggled slightly in his seat, very aware of the many people around him. He'd only agreed to come because the stash of green tea in the tower _mysteriously _disappeared. Whether Pepper or Tony was to blame, he didn't know. Tony smiled as he sipped his coffee, enjoying his friend's nervousness. _And to think, I didn't even have to lie and say Fury wanted him to socialize_! mused Tony.

"Where's that barista? I thought you said the service was quick." frowned Bruce, fiddling with the wrapper of a straw Tony failed to use. Pepper insisted he use a straw to cut down on the coffee stains since he hated using whitening trays, but Tony didn't listen. Bruce didn't care; tying the white paper into knots and picking it apart did wonders for his nervousness. For Bruce Banner nervousness often led to anxiety, and anxiety led anger. His heart was already racing behind his purple button-down shirt.

"She'll be here. Cori has other customers, you know." Tony gestured with his coffee cup to the people around them. Most were seated quietly at nearby tables, talking on phones or tying on laptops. Others nibbled on overpriced sweets. Thankfully, they were all quiet. His nerves couldn't handle obnoxious people right now, as he was still getting used to streets clogged with noisy automobiles and the general hasty nature of New York.

He couldn't take the absence of his tea for another minute, either. It was going on fifteen minutes and it was _just _a damn cup of tea! Any minute Bruce expected someone to look at him – _really _look at him – and scream. Someone was going to make a fuss about The Other Guy. That's how it always was, and his life wouldn't be normal if it didn't happen.

His internal countdown had officially hit zero. All hell should've broken loose by now. Black-clad army specialists should be swarming the shop and pointing guns at his head. Three tear gas canisters – _at least_! – were supposed to be spinning, spilling their contents. And yet…nothing was happening.

_Is this why Tony dragged me out?_ wondered Bruce. Was the billionaire trying to prove that he didn't need to hide anymore? Or was he just assuring Bruce that no one would hunt down an Avenger, not when there were other Avengers around? His act of kindness was not kind to Bruce's body. The outing was doing nothing more than aggravating him.

As if some unseen force orchestrated another test for Bruce Banner, car horns began to honk. It was more than one, he realized, because the timing was awful. Most of the Manhattan traffic was muffled by the glass, but this melody was especially clear. He could hear it pouring through the drive-through window. His pulse beat quicker under his collar, excess noise raising his anxiety.

The sound of clicking laptop keys lingered in the air, slowed and amplified by his panicked mind. Quiet sipping became insufferable slurping. Soft nibbles turned into large bites compliments of lips that smacked like a gunshot and teeth that chewed with the squeakiness of nails on a chalkboard. Bruce couldn't take it anymore.

"_What _is taking so long?" he barely refrained from snapping, managing disguise his will to stomp in a brisk stride. If Tony wanted him to go out, he could at least take him to a stress-free place!

"I'm sorry." the barista breathed, wavy, black hair contained by a cap. "I'm having a bit of a _problem_." breathed Coriander, flicking her eyes to the right where the drive-through window sat. Bruce felt his anger ebb, brain registering her shaky voice. _Something's wrong_, he frowned. Acting like he was readjusting his glasses, Bruce took a few seconds to analyze the window.

An unassuming man wearing a baseball cap and glasses stared at them through a car window. Bruce could barely see it, focused on the leather steering wheel cover and a pair of fuzzy dice hanging from the review mirror, but noticed a gun angled over his driving hand. Clearly he was going to shoot and drive off if she didn't comply. "We don't have a procedure to open up the register on our own." she explained. "If you came up here, well, I was hoping you'd buy something."

_This is extortion at its finest_, Bruce pressed his lips together thinly. The honking cars suddenly made sense. He bet no one knew of the crazy man holding up the line. "I will _personally _pay you back from my next check if you buy a candy bar. I just need something to open the register." said Cori, surprising him with her otherwise cool demeanor. Her voice was the only thing shaking.

Something in Bruce ached, able to relate to being a scared youngster. He would've never known fear as a child if he had a normal father. "Sir? Please, just—" she began.

"Hurry it up!" snarled the guy, shifting in his seat to flash more of the gun. Demanding honks followed. Bruce didn't think, he just acted. Hulk knew when he was uncomfortable and often gained the advantage when he used that knowledge. It was easier for The Other Guy to come out when Bruce was stressed.

When he wanted something to stop.

He wanted the insanely bold customer to go away. That would get him his green tea. Bruce strolled through the wooden swinging door separating experienced baristas from the customers. Coriander flinched as the hinges groaned and the door bounced off the wall like a loud slap. "Get away, please. You can't be on this side, sir!"

"Let the girl do her job!" instructed the man coolly.

"I should say the same to you!" Bruce returned coolly, handing Coriander his glasses. "Sit down." ordered Bruce, hot brown eyes tearing through Coriander like she was invisible. His eyes were solely focused on the man stupid enough to bring a gun in public. The man stupid enough to threaten a girl Tony and Pepper highly recommended. His voice was level, cool, but came out as a shallow hiss.

Coriander wasn't about to argue with a man speaking like that. Befuddled, she cautiously sat on the floor. "Call 911!" called Coriander to the girl in the back. She'd stayed by the ice bin when Coriander realized her customer had a gun. Tony's tablemate skin shuddered like he was having an intense seizure.

"_Don't_ call 911!" growled out the man. He hoped the other girl listened. One angry customer in a purple shirt couldn't keep a bullet from traveling through his body to the back wall. The idea to rob the nearest business was getting more risky. More people had seen him. It was taking longer.

Someone had to have realized by now that his tag was fake. "I want the money!" he snarled lowly, motioning for Bruce to step aside.

"I want a stress-free environment that doesn't exacerbate my condition!" replied Bruce, snorting angrily.

"Your condition?" the man dared to laugh. "What's your condition?"

"Let me show you." Bruce swallowed thickly, feeling his throat flex as his shoulders shuddered again. He'd fought the Hulk down the first time, but wouldn't do so again. He wanted his tea and he wanted to go back to the tower. Hulk wanted to smash the man in effort to give Bruce that calming environment he so desperately needed.

"Don't do this. Just buy something. Get out of the way." the barista grabbed his pant leg. Bruce smiled down at her. It was a kind smile that belied the rest of his angrily scrunched face. He nudged her back into the corner with his foot. Her eyes widened as his clothes began to rip, snippets descending to the floor like feathers.

The sight of his skin visibly turning green spurred the driver to fire a bullet. It had people on the other side of the counter panicking, fleeing the coffee shop, but the real terror was behind the counter with Coriander. She didn't know what to think of the large, green thing leaning out of the window and roaring. Its large hands left depressions in the wall, cracking paint and concrete alike. Tires squealed as the man took off, sound disguising a surprised curse.

All was quiet in the coffee shop, save for the creature's heavy panting. Through interlaced fingers, Cori looked up. The big green thing was looking at her, aware that she was down by his feet. He stooped, offering a big hand. Terrified at his height but grateful for his actions, she climbed into the hand.

Considering the fact that he'd taken a bullet for her, it was the least she could do. "Banner not mad anymore. Banner understand. Bad man no hurt anymore. Hulk take care." said the green thing, officially mindfucking Coriander's brain. He was massive, green, ridiculously strong, and could actually _talk_! She didn't know what to think anymore.

"Good." managed Cori, trembling from the shock of it all. "Good Hulk. Good job. Your tea's right there." she swiveled in his gentle hand to point at a cup off to the right. She'd been on her way to the counter to call him when the gun became apparent.

"Banner like tea. Not Hulk. Hulk want brownie!" he pointed a thick finger at the case of sweets.

_I will give you whatever the HELL you want_. Coriander thought, largely dumbfounded. This guy gets shot, turns into a green giant, and all he wants is a brownie? That was definitely doable considering his drink was _more_ than late. "Well, put me down." he complied, smoothly lowering his hand. Coriander removed the tray of unsold brownies and held them up to him, showing her willingness to obey.

If his fingers could leave holes in the wall, she didn't want to make him angry. Her eyes briefly skirted his massive feet. Those could cause damage worthy of a pricey remodeling; she didn't want to be the cause of said remodeling. "Barista feed Hulk!" he demanded. "Hulk's fingers too tiny for brownies!"

"Yeah, I'll feed you. We just have to do something about your—hey!" Cori yelped, almost losing her hold on the brownie tray as the green-skinned giant scooped her from the floor. It was exhilarating to zoom through the air, but startling because he was _really _fucking tall! _God help me if he doesn't like the brownies_, she thought, watching his bright green eyes flick back and forth across her form. He was cataloguing sudden movements, obviously. Hypnotized by his unnaturally exotic eyes, she tossed brownies into his gaping maw.

Satisfied, he lumbered through the overturned tables and puddles of spilled drink. Tony was in here somewhere, Hulk knew. Stark poked his head up from a table, grinning breathlessly. Hulk snorted at Coriander, his cue for another brownie. She hesitated slightly before peeling another brownie off the wax paper and throwing it into his mouth.

"I see you've met my friend, Dr. Bruce Banner." smiled Tony, wiggling his eyebrows.

"I have." Coriander reached out to pat a patch of dark hair.

"And you two look to be hitting it off well." he teased.

"You're not playing cupid for me, Tony. Just because Pepper wants to double-date doesn't mean _I _have to find a boyfriend."

"He's Stark approved!" added Tony, as if that would change her mind. Coriander rolled her eyes. She didn't know _what _to think about this guy! And she'd only met him once! How could she decide whether he'd be someone to date based on today?

Today had been crazy enough _without _Stark trying to hook her up. She was beginning to hate being Pepper Potts' favorite girlfriend. That meant Tony doing crazy things like _this _– whatever _this _was – on a regular basis. "He saved your life. You already have chemistry, look at that!" laughed Tony, clearly unafraid of this large creature with oddly amazing and proportional muscles.

"What do you think?"

"Banner no want date yet. Too shy. Not know barista. Feed Hulk. That make even."

"Sounds good to me." Coriander popped another brownie into his mouth.

"Good to Hulk. Good brownies." rumbled Hulk.

"Thank you, Hulk."

"Good barista." Hulk stroked her capped head gently to show that there was no ill will left from earlier.

"Good Hulk." Cori returned, tossing the last brownie into his mouth.

"Good trip to Starbucks." Tony threw the drained Styrofoam cup over his shoulder, putting his hands on his hips proudly.


	2. Deep Blue and Raging Green

We Need to Quit Meeting like This

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**AN: **Thanks to RippesofAqua, Ox King, radio-ga-ga, Midnight Chamber, Misslucky1818, and amy for reviewing the first chapter. Honestly didn't expect any reviews! I have a few ideas of my own (not many, mind you) left on how they'll meet, but if you want to see something or have an idea (be it actual meeting idea or word prompt you'd like to see me expand) please leave it in the reviews and I'll pick ones I like. This one comes from Shark Week courtesy of _Discovery Channel_.

Plus a 1,000 word drabble is easier than updating _The Pursuit of Liberty_, which I'm trying to orchestrate.

WARNING: Not spell-checked because my computer was dying.

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Deep Blue and Raging Green

"You guys didn't have to chaperone me at the beach." Coriander frowned at Pepper and Tony.

"We're not _chaperoning_." Pepper popped the brim of her wide sunhat absently as she swept her eyes over the beach in search of a good spot Somewhere not totally crowded, away from kid sandcastles, maybe close to the gentle salt spray of the ocean, and a forgivable distance from the bathrooms would be ideal. "We're just here if you need us." she said lightly, the high pitch of her voice and quiet tone synonymous with denial.

"You don't like it, take it up with your physical therapist." Tony staked the umbrella into the sand after Pepper stopped, deeming the spot perfect. Pepper took the rolled towels from her beach tote and snapped them out in one fluid motion.

"Can't. I'm not his patient anymore. So, therefore, whatever orders or suggestions he gave are invalid by default." Coriander threw her hips to the left like a challenge and smirked dryly at Tony. Sarcasm and wit were the only tones he understood. There had to be a way to chase them off, she hoped. It was embarrassing to finally reclaim her independence, only to have Tony and Pepper shadow her. Her accident seemed like ages ago, and she'd finally recovered from the brain surgery _and _the physical therapy.

She was beginning to rediscover the motions of daily life – changing clothes, cooking, cleaning, washing herself – and thought a celebration was in order. It had been almost a month since she dropped anything or needed in-home assistance. The beach was the perfect reward, Cori thought. Pliable sand would test her creativity and fingers if she sought to make a sandcastle, walking along the beach to search for shells with Pepper would work her legs, and the beach toys Tony brought to stave off boredom would test the rest of her. When Pepper removed the towels Coriander caught sight of a Frisbee and a boogie board.

"It's just a precaution." assured Pepper. "He said you might get tired easily, and I don't like the idea of you getting exhausted and being alone." Pepper unearthed the bottle of sunscreen, offering it to Cori. Cori scowled, kicking the soft sand.

"So I guess you bringing a doctor is just a coincidence?" Cori teased, watching the sand fly up in the air. Bruce Banner, a man she'd only known by name from Tony's introduction, said nothing. He'd been crammed into the backseat of one of Tony's little cars, trapped next to her as they sped giddily towards the beach. She'd been left to wonder what Tony and Pepper had told him, as he didn't say a word around her. In the car he'd gone to great lengths to make sure their bodies didn't touch.

He seemed to be nervous, fingers tapping against his knees. Dr. Banner said nothing now, watching the sun sparkle and skip across the water in his cotton shirt and board shorts.

"It's just a precaution." repeated Pepper, leaning down into the towel as Coriander applied sunblock to her back. Bruce looked away the entire time, not wanting to watch a young woman glisten and slip between another's fingers. He stayed facing the ocean for Pepper's application, too. It would be just a bit weird to analyze Tony's girlfriend getting a harmless but erotic rubdown at the beach. He decided then and there that the beach was awful. Tony convinced him to come, using his own words against him where heat, The Other Guy, and tranquility was involved.

Embracing the ruse, Bruce followed. Only when he got to the beach did he realize what a mistake he'd made. Semi naked people strolled casually, unaware of his basic celibacy. The Other Guy made him too dangerous to date, too dangerous in a public setting of various states of undress. Being at the beach made him realize the absence of intimacy, made him realize how calm, languid, and attentive The Other Guy was beneath his skin.

For the moment, all was well. The Other Guy was basking in the sun reflecting off the sand as it reached up to wrap Bruce in a cocoon of warmth. At the same time, though, Bruce could _tell _he was looking. Waiting for something to catch his eye. Hoping for something to hypnotize his primal senses and answer the dusty question of what a beautiful woman looked like.

Bruce had spent so much time running from people, abstaining from relationships, that Hulk had no idea what it was like for someone to catch his eye. To see a woman so loosely dressed as these beach-goers were. It was an exciting adventure for his starved mind, the body that was constantly one giant, walking nerve.

_That_. _What that? _Hulk turned Banner's head, using his eyes to drink in the young, dark-haired woman idly following Pepper along the shoreline. They paused occasionally, talking and gesturing before crouching to paw through shell fragments.

_That's Cori. Tony's friend, remember? He wanted me here to look after her._

_Hulk want. _

Bruce swallowed thickly, wishing he could argue with The Other Guy. He could, but it wouldn't do any good. A man of fairness, inclined to see both sides, Bruce knew why Hulk wanted her. Ironically, Coriander was dressed in green. Tony told him it was because she liked to play off the color of her eyes, but The Other Guy didn't care because that was HIS color.

She also had a nicely shaped rump.

_You're not getting. I'm forty-four. She's twenty-something. It's not right. And she's still recovering._

_Banner right._

Bruce paused, allowing himself to lean into one of the four chairs Tony had the beach reserve for him. The Hulk gave up faster than usual. He suspected more of a fight out of a rage monster.

_Banner old. Not Hulk. Banner not have to have. Hulk have._

He shot up, experiencing some kind of indignation that he couldn't voice. No, that would look weird. Probably get them thrown off the beach if he tried to explain fighting with someone else in his head. Tony turned slightly to analyze him but soon returned to gazing at Pepper as she approached with cupped hands. "Look Tony!" Pepper beamed, proud of the myriad of shells in her hands.

"Fascinating." mumbled Tony idly, more interested in her wet toes as he tried to picture how the rest of her would look soaking wet.

"I'm glad you liked them. They're going in the sneakers you packed." Pepper flashed him a dazzling smile as she unearthed a second set of clothes meant for post-beach activity. Tony scowled as Bruce chuckled.

"She went down!" Bruce blurted without even realizing it. The Other Guy must be watching. Pepper whipped around faster than humanely possible, relieved to see Coriander resurface in a show of dark, wet hair. She trotted up the beach, muscles compacting to sustain her soft but steady return.

"Tripped on this." explained Coriander, holding out what looked like a broken conch shell. Bruce saw Pepper visibly relax.

"Make sure you didn't scratch your toes up. Don't want to put blood in the water if you go out again." Pepper reminded, motioning for Coriander to lift her feet. Coriander's lithe body dipped back slightly, creating a near obtuse angle as lifted one leg up lazily for Pepper to inspect. It was The Other Guy's first picture of a drenched, young body showing a hint of muscle. Trying to counterbalance The Other Guy's unashamed lust, Banner labeled the muscle groups in his head. That didn't really help; Hulk just let his eyes sweep to whatever body part Banner described.

Abs, hips, legs, back up to the neck. Hulk memorized all of it. She looked good in his color.

"I'm bored with shells." Coriander sighed, grabbing the boogie board from the bag.

"Try to stay in shallow waters. If you go farther out you may be too tired to come back in."

"Yes _mom_." teased Coriander, strutting off in clear victory. Tony giggled childishly at Pepper's bristling. Her, old enough to be a mother? Never! She was still quite the sexy secretary!

Bruce watched Pepper wind up a medium-length facial towel, giving it a quick snap to correct Coriander's deliberate sashaying. He felt that he could relax into his chair after it stopped. The yelp was like ice water to his libido. Absorbing the sound of rolling waves, muffled laughter, and crying gulls, Bruce let himself drift into a doze. The Other Guy was relaxed like a lazy cat beneath his skin, enjoying the sun.

Once her twice he jumped to alertness, Pepper, Tony, or Coriander subsequently apologizing. They'd brought a handful of drinks for what Tony promised wouldn't be a long outing. Said drinks and the retrieval of them usually disturbed him. Popping tops – _Not hers_, Banner told Hulk, not entirely sure where he'd come to know what that phrase could mean – and slight hissing always woke him. Those tops were gunshots, and that hissing was another sound of hate until he came back to the present.

Dr. Banner was on his second twenty minute doze when another noise caught his attention. It was much longer and louder than a soda can. He thought a group of rambunctious teens brought an air horn, but that was not the case. Two different life guards ran up and down the beach waving red flags, one holding a megaphone broadcasting an air horn note, and the other demanding people "Quickly, calmly exit the water and stay on shore."

_Only one thing makes them do that…_Bruce sat up, coming to the realization alongside Tony and Pepper that Coriander was not out of the water.

"Shark!" squealed a handful of children as they scattered to find their parents. People fled the waters, kicking up sand and sea as they went. Everyone was fighting to talk, younger ones crying about abandoned float toys as others started talking about the size of the shark. It was utter pandemonium any way Bruce looked at it.

"CORI!" Pepper took off, Tony following close behind. His goal was to calm the Stark Solutions secretary. And to call the ambulance for the person that stopped her from going into the ocean.

"Just stay calm." they could hear from one of the life guards as they addressed Cori. She was tightly curled on the boogie board, keeping every body part out of the water. "We've deployed a boat and will be able to retrieve you shortly. Keep your arms and legs out of the water."

"DON'T YOU TELL HER TO STAY CALM! THERE'S A SHARK IN THE WATER! GET HER OUT!" Pepper snarled at the man, trying to rip the megaphone from his hands. She could tell Coriander was terrified out of her mind. The scariest part was her proximity to shore; Pepper imagined the girl was only about five or six feet from the shoreline.

"Ma'am, we're following protocol. Please remain calm. We're doing all that we can. She'll be fine."

"IT'S A SHARK! CAN YOU CONTROL A SHARK? NO! DON'T TELL ME IT'LL BE FINE!" Pepper wiggled away from Tony after elbowing him in the gut, wanting to deck the man in the jaw now. How can he stand here and tell her "she'll be fine" when he wasn't doing anything about it? Through sheer panic and adrenaline she managed to climb the slightly taller lifeguard and wrench the device away.

"Cori, it's Pepper!" Pepper smacked the guy once in the face with the megaphone, finding the opportunity to approach the residue of water left behind by the rolling waves. She curled her toes nervously into the wet sand, wishing the water would thin into nothingness like it did here so the shark would suffocate and Cori could just _walk _back. It was nail-biting to think Coriander had just recovered from a life-and-death situation, only to be thrown in another one.

"I'm here. Stay on the float, okay? I…we're thinking!" Pepper promised, wishing she could have something better to offer. This was so horrible. Just…so plainly, awfully, terribly horrible.

"She has to do _something _to get back, Tony!" Bruce finally zeroed in on Pepper and Tony's argument, surprised to be able to hear over the nervous murmurs and chaos.

"It's not splashing! Trust me, Pep. Splashing may generate movement to get her back to shore, but splashing will also attract the shark."

"She's on a _boogie board_, Tony! Cori doesn't _have_ a lot of options!"

"Increasing the likelihood of her own death shouldn't be one of them, don't you think?" he snapped back, caught somewhere between lecturing, informing, and trying to comfort her.

Pepper's lips wobbled slightly. She felt helpless. All she wanted to do was get Cori out of the water! And Tony was yelling at her and everyone was panicking and there were air horns and—and!

"Don't cry, Pep. Oh no…not the tears! Hey, Cori's not dead! She's alive, look!" Tony tried to direct Pepper's gaze to the black, green, and yellow boogie board bobbing in the blue waters. It wasn't working. Bruce's relaxed mood was steadily dissipating. His nerves were shortened by anticipation, stress, and anger. He was angry because no one was doing anything to stop Pepper's crying, because Coriander was still out there.

An ear-shattering scream ripped through the air.

No one could sit back and wait anymore. Time had run out.

Bruce dug his feet into the sand, taking off across the beach. He knew the lifeguards were going to stop him, that beach-goers would stand there stupefied by his bravery.

_Hulk still want?_

_Yes._

_Then let's go get._

Banner felt The Other Guy spilling through his veins. It was astounding and slightly horrifying every time. From his chest to his toes, Bruce could feel him taking control. Contorting the muscles to fill out his usual stature. One of the guards approached him from the left and Hulk blindly threw out a widening hand, knocking the man deep into the sand.

Mere moments later he was splashing through the water, hopefully drawing the shark's attention. Every now and then green eyes caught sight of the fin. It wouldn't stay long and always disappeared under the water. The shark was taunting him, Hulk thought with a sneer. A quick, long shadow darkened the waters.

Hulk growled as something bit into his leg. It was more surprise than anything that coaxed the noise from his throat. He healed constantly, repairing any injuries that he or Banner sustained almost instantly. The same would be said for the shark, but he could still feel it holding on. That annoyed him.

Snarling, Hulk reached down into the water. He could feel the rough, slick skin and pointed nose of the beast. He locked his thick hands around the head, squeezing. The pressure faded and Hulk continued towards the boogie board, feeling his massive body sink quickly into the wet sand. A dull cloud of red followed him to the board.

Coriander was beyond terrified. First a shark and now _this_? Fuck, was she safer on the board or with that thing? He had come to save her, though. Hulk issued a coarse, quiet note from the back of his throat. She was so scared, that tiny little creature in his colors…so scared.

Just like Bruce when he hid from the storm. Except this girl had not aunt to comfort her. She was alone. Hulk carefully reached out to her, not wanting to make any sudden moves that would upset her little board. The last thing he needed was for her to fall in the water with that shark still around.

Coriander screamed. Screamed and screamed and screamed. She inched forward on her knees, trying to keep her balance in the center of the board while reaching for the big, strong green hand. His callused fingers brushed the tips of her shaking hands when the shark lunged out of the water. It was like Shark Week all over again, except there was no "time capsule" in the upper corner of the screen, she wasn't home, and this was very real.

The sleek body was all muscle. All muscle and fury. She could tell by the gaps in the jagged teeth and the coloring that the shark was a great white. It had her green rescuer by the wrist and he was _pissed_. Coriander was totally confused; was that the same one that had people running out of the water, or was there more?

_He's bleeding_. She shook harder, watching the red dots explode once they hit the water. Her little board was surrounded by spots of blooming, watery roses, and she was afraid. Very afraid. Coriander's body was trying to react naturally with fight or flight, but was confused on what to do since she was so contained.

She wanted to shit herself, but didn't think it was possible with how hard she was shaking. Her body was completely locked up. The giant green thing punched the shark so hard it flew back two inches. He seemed cognizant, smart enough to hold his bleeding wrist above his head and away from her. Wasting no time, he snatched her up with his good hand.

He jammed her onto his left shoulder, snorting wildly as he looked around. The green guy looked lost, too. More pissed than anything, but lost. Confused, even. Coriander buried her fingers tightly in his hair, holding on for dear life.

"Hold on." grated out the large thing as he started towards the beach. Coriander drew in a shaky breath as he licked his wrist clean. He had no wounds whatsoever. She was utterly baffled. What _was _he?

He let out a loud snarl, stomping his foot at the sharp pain in his other leg. "Why shark keep biting Hulk?" Hulk yelled to the water, kicking blindly. Cori looked down, hoping to catch a glimpse of said shark and give him some direction. Him leaning down again would put _her _in a vulnerable position.

"You're walking through the blood." she realized. His movements mixed the blood into the water, and walking inadvertently made him a target. The shark – or sharks, Cori couldn't tell – basically saw him as large, wounded prey. "Sharks like the blood. We have to get out of the water."

"They keep biting Hulk! Hulk can't walk if sharks bite!"

"We need to turn the sharks onto something else."

"What else sharks eat?"

"They eat plenty of things. Test bites and whatnot. They'll also attack each other if a feeding frenzy occurs."

"What that?"

"It's where a bunch of sharks swarm each other to fight for the same prey."

"They hurt each other?"

"Yes."

It became very simply to Hulk at that point. The sharks were fighting for him. Trying to take him down because he was so big. To get them away from him, he had to make them fight over something else. Like each other, or a wounded shark.

It would get the shark off his leg and maybe give him enough time to get her back to shore. Hulk knelt, causing Coriander to whimper. He could feel the shark struggling under his knee, surprised that he was bearing his weight down on the creature. The hunter had suddenly become the prey. Feeling blindly for the thrashing head and pointed teeth, Hulk let the sea beast try to eat his fist.

It was impossible with the amount of pressure he had on the creature, but his fingers had slipped in just enough to force the jaws apart. The stinging prick of salt water in his quickly healing wounds was the only indication that he'd been hurt at all. With one good tug Hulk ripped the lower jaw off. Blood contaminated the blue waters, welling up like some gross fountain. Hulk felt proud; he'd gotten rid of the pain to his leg, he'd beaten an animal enemy, and his interest was safe.

Plenty of male pride to be had, especially when he gripped the bloody jaw like a weapon. If anything else wanted to jump out at him, or take a piece of him, it would feel _this_! They made it back to the shore without incident, leaving Hulk to assume the one shark had attacked him multiple times. Most off the beach-goers gave him space, but not Tony and Pepper. Dispatched emergency crews and rescue operators also approached him.

Hulk gave a warning snort, able to feel his shaken rescue victim against his face and neck. She was too scared for these people right now. He wasn't going to put her down until she calmed down. "Bruce, is she okay, Bruce?" Pepper begged, walking shakily across his large toes to catch his attention.

"Not Bruce. Yes. Girl okay. Scared." Hulk pet her back carefully, aware of the tight clench she had on his hair.

"Sir, I'm going to have to ask you to put her down so—"

"NOT PUT DOWN! THIS BELONG TO HULK!" yelled Hulk. She probably wouldn't _let _him put her down, anyways. At the mention of being put down Coriander tightened her legs around his throat. She was safe up here. Perfectly safe, and his big frame allowed her to breathe away from all the shocked people.

He was tall and strong. Coriander didn't want to be anywhere else. Hulk could hear her whimpering, muttering appreciation and just _breathing _in his ear. She'd be fine, and that made him feel good. He'd done something good.

He was trying not to be angry, he really was. To show them that he understood, but did not wish to comply, Hulk offered a trade. He'd keep her and they'd have the shark jaw. The large jaw was dropped in front of the emergency crew and life guards. "Men keep that and Hulk keep this." said Hulk.

"Unfortunately, we can't allow—"

"Look, more sharks!" Hulk turned to look at the ocean. Several fins were visible from the beach. The waters seemed to churn roughly now that someone had mentioned more sharks.

"It's a feeding frenzy." mumbled one of the guards. "C'mon," he smacked the other in the arm, "we've got to maintain our border and keep people out of the water."

"C'mon, big guy." Tony urged. No one would stop them. The rescue crews were turning a blind eye because crisis had been avoided. Because no one wanted to argue with an eight-foot green thing that just beat up a shark. Hulk followed Tony and Pepper to the car, entrusted with putting Coriander back in it.

She gave a strangled, grumpy noise every time he tried to detach her. Hulk finally gave up after the ninth time.

"Like the beach, Dr. Banner?" asked Tony humorously now that the danger had passed. Bruce's aching, shaky body fell into the car. Cori tumbled in with him. Pepper smacked Tony; it made Bruce smile.

"Shut up, Tony." Bruce whispered tiredly, body unharmed but sore after the ordeal.

"Who's up for ice cream? OW! Well, I'm getting some! You don't have to have any, Pepper! I was under the impression that ice cream was _comfort food_."

"Hot fudge sundae." whispered Coriander, sending shivers up Bruce's spine since she was still so tightly wrapped around his body.

"And a side of Dr. Banner, got'cha. OW!"

They drove to the nearest Dairy Queen, unwinding from the chaos with padded booths, air conditioning, and traditional ice cream. Calm at last settled over the group. They'd been nursing the ice cream for the better part of an hour, but none of the employees said anything. "The Other Guy liked the beach." said Bruce at last, breaking the silence.

Tony just smiled.


	3. Fighting is the New Dancing

We Need to Quit Meeting like This

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**AN: **Thanks for all the reviews, guys! Sorry all of you didn't like the shark week theme, but, hey, can't please everyone! I just did it because shark week is absolutely hypnotizing and scary xD. The ideas/suggestions are wonderful‼! Amy, I saw your suggestion and have written it down.

MiracleFromNowhere, I'm glad to have written something you enjoyed :D.

CatTheChesire, you and I think alike. I actually had a mid-movie meeting planned. Had a few, actually, and didn't know which one I wanted to do. I may put the other one up, eventually. Hopefully this one won't seem cliché because it's Hulk saving someone; I'm trying to put a spin on a classic fandom scene.

I'm kind of winging this one because I'm a bit rusty on the movie. So glad it comes out in September! This one ties back to and is loosely based on the beginning of _Doctor Patient Confidentiality_, so if it seems familiar, that's why.

My next oneshot for WNTQMLT will definitely feature tutor Banner and student Cori. Who _wouldn't _want Bruce Banner as a tutor? Hope everyone keeps enjoying the booklet (thanks ThoughtlessRage, your review made me laugh as it always does xD).

May update this again before the day is done.

* * *

Fighting is the New Dancing

Bruce Banner arrived calmly on the little motorized bike, joining Steve and the others as pandemonium erupted around them. People were running and screaming, trying to figure out whether to flee on foot or find solace in a building. Cars were abandoned or crashed as a panicked response to police gunfire. He took off his glasses and tossed them aside, knowing there was no hope to keep them whole in such an environment. After a genuinely amused comment to Steve, he began to transform.

The Other Guy surveyed throngs of flying ships firing at buildings and pedestrians. He roared, issuing a pissed warning that promised pain. "Hulk," Steve turned to him, "smash!"

Smash he did.

Hulk ripped aircrafts from the sky with a simple extension of his massive hands. He growled as others noticed his ploy and skirted over his fingertips. The Other Guy retaliated by stepping back and lunging forward to intercept oncoming ships. Fire and shrapnel danced across his skin, but Hulk didn't care. It didn't hurt.

The alien pilot fell to the ground and Hulk smashed him, shaking the fractured street with his return. A fragment of the flying ship weighed down his hand. It was jagged, smoking, sparking, and pointed at the front. He flung it like a bladed boomerang at the remaining ships threatening to disperse. Hulk chuckled a dark and happy tune when the wounded ship sputtered, soon failing all together as it crashed into a nearby building.

His large heart thrummed quickly with energy and rage. He felt empowered by the tumultuous scene. Confident and free as he took in the lack of people on the streets. Every car was abandoned, and the only sounds around him were the sounds of war. There were few people to hurt, and the ones that could be hurt were safe with Captain, Thor, and Natasha.

Despite the carnage and aliens, he was technically free. He could smash whatever he wanted and not be blamed for it. There was a sadistic pleasure to be had at such a thought. Hulk released his pent up rage and inner animal, scaling buildings to bring down ships. Abandoned cars were weapons in his hands, pliable and light.

Chitauri soldiers had ray guns, but he had cars. Many, many cars. Their ships couldn't fly fast enough to dodge hundreds of pounds of flying steel. Hulk lost count of how many soldiers and cars he'd decimated. Everything around him was either smoking, on fire, buried beneath piles of rubber, or at the bottom of a crater.

It was hard to distinguish the mess he'd created and what the Chitauri had done. He reigned over a sea of unconscious, half-smashed, mutilated Chitauri soldiers. They quit attacking him from above, fearing the loss of their ships, and started sending ground units to approach him in sets of five. Five were not enough, even with the guns, because their weapons crumpled like paper in his hands. A light breeze tore through the chaos and Hulk raised his head high, embracing the wind.

The sweat of his teammates traveled on the wind, as did the spilled blood of Chitauri. His powerful ears could pick up the sound of flying ships between the bullets and lasers. Hulk stood still, waiting for an enemy that never came. Something primal and animalistic coated his veins, warning him that the danger had moved to a different part of this place Banner and Tony loved. It encouraged him to seek those enemies out and defend the turf, to exert his dominance.

Scaling a nearby building, pausing briefly to eye the terrified people inside, Hulk caught a view of the east. Chitauri ships were few now, but were in that direction. Most were exiting that area and returning to surround Captain, Natasha, and Thor. Hulk jumped from the building, feet running before he hit the ground to carry him towards the ransacked zone. Mid-run, he paused, ears picking up the sound of an exasperated cry.

Another breeze kicked up, cooling his heated skin. His pulse and anger strengthened, picking up the coppery smell of blood. Someone was hurt. Why were the Chitauri attacking already wounded people? It was sick.

He gave a loud roar before taking off, following the coppery scent. Because there were few people on the street, because he was eight foot tall and could see better than most humans, Hulk deciphered two young women disappearing into a shop as a blonde with a bleeding scrape pulled herself from the concrete, leading dark-haired girl. They were running for their lives, trying to find safety, and unknowingly leaving themselves open to a handful of prowling Chitauri soldiers. The Chitauri soldiers hid from him, but he could still smell them. A biting pain erupted near his ankle and Hulk howled.

Turning swiftly jerked the spear from the Chitauri soldier. Hulk could hear other soldiers scuttling down the street, escaping him as their comrade provided a distraction. He ignored the hissing alien and grabbed it by the face, squeezing until he could feel his fingers indent the flesh. It flailed and squealed for a good five seconds before he pitched it.

The wounded blonde charged into a shop, her dark-haired friend following close behind. Hulk let out a roar as the Chitauri agent stirred, trying to warn her. His roar caused her to stumble with fear. She momentarily warded off the soldier with something electrical; Hulk could smell singed flesh. In the blink of an eye the soldier retaliated, biting down hard into her shoulder.

Her scream echoed in his ears, causing nerves to tingle with rage and hate. Hulk clapped once, watching the waves rip the two apart. The dark-haired girl rolled across the concrete like a leaf, her Chitauri attacker following suit. She took advantage of its dazed state and tazed it several times, collapsing shortly after. Blood saturated the air, causing Banner to bleed through the haze of destruction and rage in his mind.

Something was wrong; she needed to be looked at. Cautious of his big feet and heavy body, Hulk approached. She was mumbling incoherently, trying to sit up, trying to get away. The blood was fresh and wet on her, making the scent heady and nearly intolerable. Hulk snatched up two close cars and beat the Chitauri like a drum.

It eased his anger and let her know she didn't have to force her body into anything unbearable, which she seemed to be doing. The sounds of war were muffled here, allowing her shallow breathing to be heard clearly. Hulk carefully picked the girl up, feeling coppery blood lubricate his large fingers. She moaned, curling up. "Safe." he ground out, bathing her in cold air as she gritted her teeth and rolled onto her back to see him. Like him, she had green eyes and dark hair.

The girl nodded slightly, babbling something pained and mildly appreciative. Her little body was sweaty and bloody; the paleness of her skin was especially apparent against the red. Obvious when highlighted by the sheen of sweat. This needed to end so she could get medical attention. "Get help." Hulk promised, carefully depositing her outside the door of the closest building.

He would help by ending this madness. Hulk looked up the hypnotic blue void spilling over with Chitauri soldiers. A near indecipherable red and gold figure was flying into the hole. His large feet propelled him back to the main square where Captain, Thor, and Natasha were defending themselves. Bruce cared about Tony, so he had to help him.

Effortlessly bowling over the invasion of soldiers trying to devour his friends, Hulk waited anxiously for a sign. Tony had disappeared. A bright light exploded, disguising the recession of the portal. His heart tensed with curiosity and fear, but lifted with the knowledge that it was over. Recovering Chitauri soldiers dropped like flies, dead where they stood.

Tony fell from the sky like a rock, suit creating a beautiful spinning visual against the sky. Hulk latched onto a building, holding out one meaty arm. The impact of Tony's suit and his fall dragged them down several feet before Hulk stopped them. He laid Tony on the ground just like he'd done to the girl. The war was over and they'd won; all of his teammates survived.

Hulk gave a victorious roar. Tony snapped up, mumbling gibberish as his senses returned. He felt Bruce hovering at the back of his mind, beginning to press through the diminishing barrier of rage and adrenaline. _I'm glad he's okay. I wonder how that other girl will do?_

As Tony groaned and sat up, mumbling about shawarma, an ambulance raced by. Hulk hadn't seen many of those, but knew they were helpful. Bruce had memories of them helping the sick and wounded. When he thought of them pictures of hospitals, nurses, and doctors followed.

_Hulk think girl will be fine._

_I think you're right._


	4. Theories and Fantasies

We Need to Quit Meeting like This

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**AN: **Thanks for the review, ThoughtlessRage! Your idea has been noted. If anyone is curious about how I came up with the image for this booklet, I used a female chibi maker created by CamilleMai on Deviant art and used a Bruce Banner chibi graphic from IcyPanther1 (also on Deviantart).

To detangle any confusion that may occur from this chapter: Bruce Banner is tutoring Coriander on an English assignment. Her assignment requires a paper relating various scientific bonds to a relationship between two people (because her English teacher is cruel and has a wife in the science department).

This would be one of the 'rated M' chapters due to dialogue and insinuations. All definitions were pulled from _Google_. The idea about the hug came from a gif someone showed me of Ruffalo hugging Renner xD. It was quite funny. I'd look it up.

* * *

Theories and Fantasies

"Hey, do me a _huge _favor?" Tony poked his head into the lab, breaking Bruce's concentration on a series of blueprints.

"Sure." Bruce nodded, giving a tiny shrug. He and Tony were twins of the mind and he figured the task wouldn't be that hard. Judging by the tux and bowtie, he assumed Tony's presence was demanded at a gala.

"Great! This girl, Cori, is going to come over. I was supposed to help her with a paper but _Pepper _insisted I go to this dinner."

"They expect you there!" Bruce could hear Pepper's heels clicking down the hall as her voice echoed outside the door. "Stark Solutions has been a major contributor to Science for Success since your father was head of the company! You're going!"

"Then why are _you _going if I have to go? Isn't one representative enough?" Tony turned to address Pepper, making the smallest of protests as Pepper gripped his tie in a vice and dragged him from the door.

"_I'm _going to watch you."

Bruce chuckled as the noise faded away. _Guess I better get out of the lab if someone's coming over_, he thought, rolling blueprints up. He was terrible at meeting new people, and had no time to ask Tony what Cori was like. His nerves were already tensing. Thousands of awkward, terrible scenarios flashed through his mind.

In half of them Cori was an absolute monster. Snarky, impolite, and unbearable. Sure to set him off. In the other half he was his usual awkward self, inviting long, uncomfortable silences. Those silences would amp up his anxiety until he was nothing but adrenaline and fear, causing The Other Guy to explode until his excess hormones were exhausted.

"Shall I make you some tea, Dr. Banner?" offered JARVIS. Tony left the AI specific instructions on how to reduce Bruce's stress for the sake of his home.

"Please." Bruce requested, voice cracking as he fought back the possible scenarios and tried to calm his mind. He waited on Cori for seven agonizing minutes. Five were used to brew the tea, and two to unwind. The tea greatly slowed his fluttering heart. It had a mild strength, and flavor that could only be described as 'flowery', but he dulled it with a bit of honey and lemon.

The combination unwound the coil of anxiety within him. It left his mouth feeling fresh, too, which would mean no "bad breath" comments to come. "Ms. Henson has arrived." announced JARVIS. _Here we go_, Bruce frowned crookedly as he braced himself. Moments later Bruce heard footfalls and the unmistakable sound of friction that could only come from a backpack rubbing on clothing.

"This is a weird assignment, Tony. I'm giving you a disclaimer straight out the gate. Can't say I didn't warn you! But I figured you were a good source of help, so—where's Tony?" Bruce heard her before he saw her. The chattering stopped when she realized Tony wasn't in the kitchen with her. Green eyes narrowed in an inquisitive manner as she analyzed him, evaluated the situation. She was very readable to Bruce. Then again, most people were.

He'd trained himself to read people because reading people was essential to his survival. Reading people helped him determine when someone was going to pull a gun. When they were hesitating. When to run as they looked him over and wondered how a situation concerning The Other Guy would turn out. _What's going on? _Bruce could read plainly, _where's Tony? Have I been tricked?_

"Who-?"

"I'm Bruce Banner…uh, Tony's friend. He and Pepper had to go to a charity dinner. Tony said you needed help with a paper?" Bruce explained, raising his voice towards the end in hopes that she would fill in the open-ended question of what the paper pertained to.

"Oh…okay." Coriander eased herself into a chair opposite of the man. She wasn't expecting a last minute substitution. Still, if he was a friend of Tony's she might have a chance at a good paper. At first glance she didn't see _how _he could be Tony's friend. The man was in his age range, yes, but was far too quiet for the likes of Tony Stark.

Similar fancy attire, though. He and Tony had the button-up shirt in common. The dark pants, too. Tony's hair was browner than his, though, and had less gray. Strangely, the gray suited him well.

It was the humbling, charming hint of wisdom to his shy appearance. His brown eyes crackled dimly with light, mirroring a soft, roaring fire. The glasses enhanced his eyes; they seemed to represent his attentive and focused personality. He seemed like a real teacher with the cup of tea sitting by his right arm. "So, what's your paper about?" Bruce watched her left hand creep up to her neck, pushing hair around.

She was nervous, trying to relax herself by kneading the muscles in her neck. He could tell she didn't trust him, and wasn't sure what to think about the sudden change of plan. "It's, um. I mean…well, I…it's embarrassing. I was kind of hoping Tony would be here."

"The paper is embarrassing? How can you have an embarrassing assignment?"

"Because I have a crotchety, old professor who hates young people and our 'wild ways'." replied Coriander without skipping a beat. For a minute Bruce thought she was exaggerating. Having an outrageous, demanding teacher was nearly inevitable. Everyone would have one at some point in their educational lives. She stared at him with big, green eyes.

_She's serious_, mused Bruce.

"I'm sure he doesn't hate young people." Bruce consoled. Once she got past her opinion of the teacher the paper would probably be easier to write. Attitudes towards the class subject and professor had a way of hindering homework.

"I think he does. Why else would he make us write a _mandatory_ persuasive argument against using _YouTube _as a learning source?"

Bruce had no answer for that. Even _he _knew how to use the site, and he'd been in India! Maybe this professor really _did _hate the younger generation and the advancements they produced. He felt like a gaping fish. He could see why the teacher thought that, but when he went to voice said points they all seemed silly.

Was it the points or the obvious age gap stopping him? Sitting at the table, facing her, Bruce felt incredibly old. The feeling of seniority increased when he realized she'd come for help. Expected him to share his knowledge. He became keenly aware of the dusting of gray hair on his head as he looked at her lush, black hair.

_Moving on_, he pursed his lips. "Tell me about this paper."

She shifted nervously in response. Bruce pushed his glasses up higher on his nose, wishing he hadn't just a little bit. With the spectacles pressed close to his eyes he could see perfectly. The partial bite on her lower lip was observed without issue. Hulk sat on the back of his mind, the motion catching his eyes like a slowly swaying feather caught a cat.

Biting the lips increased blood flow. Blood flow produced a rich red color. The bold color tickled his baser human instincts, telling him this young woman was ripe and perfect for his seed. It was Bruce's turn to shift nervously, glad to have his lower half beneath the table. "I-if you can't tell me, I can't help you." he shrugged helplessly, needing the challenge of assisting her to reset his hormonal distribution.

"Well…like I said, this is going to be weird. It kind of makes sense, though, because his wife's a chemist." Coriander started, shaking her head while nearly falling prey to a tangent. Bruce smiled. How many times had he done that? Too many to count. "Anyways…our assignment is to compare common bonds found in science to a modern relationship."

"Come again?" Bruce blinked. What the hell kind of prompt was that? It made an iota of sense; writing students would need to learn how to write for various field, but, really, _what the hell_?

"Yeah." Cori thinned her lips as she wiggled her eyebrows in agreement. It was the zaniest thing she'd ever heard. "Apparently he thinks my generation is hopeless and horny, too. This dude complains about everything! Our last lecture was based off poor script writing focused on dialects and stereotypes…it turned into an hour-long whining session about _Jersey Shore_."

"Wow." Bruce didn't know what _Jersey Shore _was. He'd heard Tony mention it once or twice when referencing Pepper's reality TV addiction. Reality TV, apparently, was an outlet for the opinions she couldn't voice while on the clock. She was waiting for him to say something, to spill information about scientific bonds, and all Bruce could think about was: _I'm going to have to talk about relationships with her_.

It would be almost like a cruel joke, talking about covalent bonds and pairs with a young woman when he was alone. It was especially cruel because they were two people – they made a pair! – but remained totally separate and different. He was a lesser element trying unsuccessfully to be a noble gas. The losing atom of an ionic bond. _Alright, stop that, Bruce! Focus!_

"Let's organize our thoughts, shall we? Do you have paper?"

"Of course." she unzipped the blue and gray backpack, pulling out a spiral notebook and a pencil. Coriander thumbed through it, finding an empty page. It hit the table softly, her eyes meeting his as she waited for something worthy of writing down.

"How long does this need to be?"

"About two thousand words. Ionic bonds, covalent bonds, the dipole, and polar and nonpolar bonds must be referenced."

"Sounds reasonable. Calls for about four hundred words per subject." Bruce calculated. "Right, so let's get started!"

_Covalent bonds: when one or more pairs of electrons are shared by two atoms. The atoms are the people. Electrons can be their conversations. Considered the "pre-dating" phase because of the willingness to share information. It signifies the desire to bond and understand._

Bruce rambled on about the hypothetical new couple tentatively inquiring of one another. Coriander thought it was cute. He was almost like a school boy, or a shy proposing male, himself. It was an interesting comparison, though, and actually made sense. She could easily expound on the desire to know someone, the time committed to "casually" running into them or bringing up one of their favorite things.

Right now she wanted to know about Bruce Banner. Her assignment was getting in the way. He was nothing but sheer genius for making these leaps and connections between the two subjects. She could just kiss him! If not for him, she'd still be fighting the paper unsuccessfully.

"But with ionic bonds, things are a bit different…" Bruce continued.

_Ionic bonds: bond in which one or more electrons from one atom are removed and attached to another atom, resulting in positive and negative ions which attract each other. May get half credit for a mention of unrequited love (if fully explained). Unreturned affection is like the atom being removed and attached to the other atom. The person took your heart and won't give it back. Pining for the other person is inevitable, as one person is still in love and the other isn't._

_Shouldn't have gone into such detail_, Bruce frowned. Betty was his inspiration, and the example left him slightly sour (even if he didn't mention any names). Coriander smiled sympathetically. "I take it you've been the victim of an ionic bond?" she teased good-naturedly.

"Haven't we all?" chuckled Bruce demurely.

"Yeah." Coriander grinned.

"But, uh, getting back on track…" Bruce cleared his throat. It was easy to trail off and just _talk _with her. Coriander didn't force information from him. Just waited. The fact that she tried to understand his explanations, and eventually caught on enough to contribute, thrilled him.

It was like a kindred spirit!

"Now, the dipole."

"Oh, we can skip that one." she waved her hand dismissively.

"But you said it's in your assignment…didn't you?"

"Yeah, but that one's easy! It's like a couple breaking up because the separation happens between two covalently bonded molecules."

That was pretty simple, wasn't it? Bruce fell silent. He was used to things being incredibly complex and dipoles weren't _This _– the situation – wasn't, surprisingly. It was a nice feeling.

He was actually enjoying her company, Bruce was shocked to find. Coriander was young, but wise beyond her years. She had a sardonically honest streak that reminded him of Tony. A wickedly brilliant mouth that had his inner intellectual hooked. It was like the cute librarian talking dirty without meaning to.

This paper was a very, very bad thing, Bruce decided. The topic was just _ripe _for innuendos and lusty misconceptions. He would know; he made most of them.

"P-polar bonds…" Bruce stammered, drawing himself away from the thought of how the paper would go – how much more detailed it would be – if they were actually a couple. If he were younger and had better chances at courting her. She probably didn't realize his examples were loosely referencing her, and that he was dropping shy praise.

_Polar bond: A type of covalent bond between two atoms in which electrons are shared unequally. Because of this, one end of the molecule has a slightly negative charge and the other a slightly positive charge. Symbolizes the disagreement between the couple. Likely the first big one because – despite the differences - there is still love there. They just have to find it again._

Though they left names out, Bruce and Coriander arrived at the perfect example simultaneously: Tony Stark. His energy, view on life, and attitude was shared unequally by Pepper Potts, who constantly worried about him. Tony had a tendency to put himself in danger, and downplay the possible consequences, which left Pepper feeling negative and "turned off". They would eventually forget about everything and kiss and makeup. That's how it always was.

_Nonpolar bonds: two of the same atoms coming together. They possess pure covalent character, share no negative charges, and are equally sharing. It's like the happy couple. Yeah, the scary ones who know everything about each other and get along no matter what. Nonpolar bonds represent the people who know each other and are fine with their spouse/significant other._

"Oh, so it's like you and Tony?" Cori joked. Bruce flushed. He enjoyed Tony's mind, but would probably endure spells of rage and worry if he were truly connected to Tony. The man was needlessly reckless.

"Or, like us…" Bruce found himself muttering. He was sure that was only a thought, but when Coriander flashed him a crooked smile he knew it wasn't. "I—I mean, you know, that is—"

"No. You're right." Coriander grinned brightly. "I know Tony, and I've heard vaguely of you. Big Green doesn't bother me."

"He…he doesn't?"

"I don't think I'd be human if I got scared by someone who was angry. Everyone gets angry. You just do something no one else can when angry." she laughed. And, just like the dipole, Bruce felt the simplicity smack him in the face. How could it be that easy? He didn't know, but it was.

Bruce was beginning to wonder if Tony really needed to go to that gala. This felt like a cleverly disguised therapy session. He was grateful for it though, runaway mind or not. Hulk felt something akin to contentedness and genuine surprise. Someone was okay with him, just like that?

He was happy, and so was Banner. She needed to know they were happy. "CORI MAKE BANNER HAPPY!" Bruce blurted, much to his chagrin, and all but broke the table getting to her. Cori was startled, yes, but her fear dissipated in the face of energetic swinging. Bruce hugged her tightly, his arms an impenetrable cradle as she swung side to side with him. "CORI FRIEND!"

It was like rolling a rollercoaster! Or the fun slingshot ride at the fair!

Bruce finally released her, unable to apologize. His lips, his thoughts, were not his own at the moment. She stared into brown eyes flecked with green. "Bruce good friend, too." Coriander hugged him back. "I'll let you know how the paper goes, okay?"

"OKAY!"

"Bye Bruce," she laughed. "And…thanks again." she shyly stood up on her tippy toes to kiss his cheek. Bruce blushed deeply as the brown fell away into the green consuming his eyes. "Later, Big Guy." Coriander waved. Hulk waved back timidly, flexing Bruce's little fingers. He had to get to the Smash Room before Tony's floor was ruined.

He wasn't quite sure of the feeling rumbling in his chest, but it was strong.

* * *

Tony returned to find the house absolutely silent. It meant one of four things: Bruce had gone to bed, Bruce was in the labs, he wasn't in the house, or he was in the sound-proof Smash Room. "JARVIS…?" began Tony curiously.

"In the Smash Room, sir." answered the AI promptly.

"Thank you." Tony undid his tie as he moved to the locked door. It was red, meaning Big Green had just finished his rampage. The door slid open for Tony, allowing him to see a thoroughly destroyed room that would need to be restocked with malleable goodies. In a nest of splintered wood, twisted metal, broken concrete, and fractured replicas of Manhattan buildings was his friend. Hulk breathed deeply and calmly, lowering his heart rate.

"Hey buddy, how'd it go?"

"It go fine."

"Really? Are you sure? What made you want to smash?"

"Not bad smash. This good smash. Happy smash."

"Ah…so it went well?"

"Very well." Hulk turned his head to smile almost boyishly at Tony. Tony grinned. He could see Bruce in that shy smile.

"I'll let you know when she needs help on a paper." Tony chuckled, nosing aside a chunk of concrete with his foot.


	5. Some Cockblocking Methods are Unfair

We Need to Quit Meeting like This

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**AN: **This idea is courtesy of amy. A oneshot was easier to put out than a chapter for _The Pursuit of Liberty_. I'll have a busy day today, so this may be all I can update.

Thanks to Miko Hayashi, amy, and Drachegirl14 for reviewing the last chapter. And yes, I agree, tutor Bruce is adorable. This alludes to the Stark Expo chapter I'll be writing next.

* * *

Some Cockblocking Methods are Unfair

Tony scratched his Black Sabbath shirt idly, grinning at Pepper's relaxed but conspicuous attire. She treated the fair like a stakeout mission, obscuring her features with a sunhat and matching sunglasses. Coriander requested they hang out with her dance troupe in honor of their second-place victory in a local competition. They were also to act as a buffer against an unwanted guest adamant on tailing her. Pepper was more knowledgeable than him on how this little attraction came to be – something about a bartender, girls' night, drinks, and the mechanical bull – but he was still needed.

It was his sworn duty as Iron Man to protect the innocent. The guy wouldn't like having his nose broken if he continued to pester Cori. Also, as Tony Stark, there was a hint of male obligation to defend his and Pepper's inadvertently adopted practice kid. "She's blown him off three times. We should do something." Pepper muttered to Tony before taking a bite of her slushy in a cup.

"I think Squirt's doing fine. She moves pretty fast. It took him a half-hour to find her!" Tony pointed out. He had little doubt that Coriander couldn't fight this battle on her own. She was still a bit snippy after a full recovery from her head injury, and Tony didn't want to touch a nerve.

"That's not the point, Tony. He's persistent. She needs some help!"

"Which is why I'm here, I assume?" Bruce sipped some water as he watched Coriander smile tightly – evilly, in a stressed manner – at the young man with gelled brown hair. Her jaw clenched as she said something, laughed with a hint of sarcasm, and waved goodbye. The young man was hot on her heels as she retreated, trying to find solace in the Ferris wheel line. He'd already chased her from the bumper cars, a roller coaster, and caused her to abandon a meal at the food kiosk.

"Yes. Coriander turns into a raging, rabid bear when she can't eat. Stress makes it worse. If anyone knows how to handle raging people, it's you, Bruce!"

"And this has nothing with my ability to turn into an eight-foot tall giant, right?" teased Bruce.

"Can't argue with an eight-foot tall giant!" Tony smiled brightly.

"You know I'm not good with being…well, I don't have experience running men off as _myself_." Bruce frowned. It was easy enough to talk to Coriander. He'd come to know her through Tony, finding her brain surgery absolutely fascinating. The doctor in him couldn't quit marveling over her progress and the design of Tony's life-saving implant holding the lobes of her brain together.

"I'll speak for you. It's why I put that microphone in your shirt." Tony clapped him on the back. He'd intervene, but people knew he was with Pepper Potts. A sighting with a younger woman would only bring chaos. Bruce Banner was unspoken for, and therefore perfect. Bruce decided he could do this, if not for Cori than for the simple fact that he'd have the chance to chase off another male.

And feel more normal doing so. How often did a chance like that come along? Bruce still owed Coriander for getting greedy Ironette dancer Trish's claws out of him at the Stark Expo, anyways. "Alright, hold this. I'm pretty sure you can't take anything on the Ferris wheel." sighed Bruce as he absently fixed a partially folded sleeve and handed over his water bottle.

"…but I don't care that you have brain damage! We'd still have something in common. My brain sucks because you blew it, babe." the guy smiled. Bruce was instantly bombarded with the heady scent of aftershave. How could she find air to breathe around this guy? The Other Guy picked up a lingering stink cologne couldn't cover. He'd read in a book once that such an unprompted stink may be owed to a sexually transmitted disease, but didn't exactly go around smelling men and inquiring about their medical history.

This man was garbage – from his pickup lines to the beatnik clothes. "You held my spot, thanks!" Bruce wrapped one arm around Cori, a grin twisting his lips at the man's sudden jump. Coriander smiled brightly, relief twinkling in her green eyes. Bruce felt proud at the fact she trusted him enough to relax. That was a big accomplishment, especially when she knew about The Other Guy.

"No problem, sweetie." Coriander kissed his cheek. Bruce fumbled for a second, train of thought grinding to a halt at the affection. He wasn't expecting that. A squeeze back or slight backrub would've been appropriate. Still, it wasn't bad.

"Wow! You're really…old." the man muttered, looking Bruce over questioningly and a bit skeptically. Bruce felt his nostrils flare. Him, _old_? He had a few gray hairs, but who wouldn't when they housed an alter ego capable of leveling Harlem?

"But he's _quite _experienced." Coriander rubbed his chest flirtatiously, grinning crookedly at the man. "I like them older, anyways." she plucked a curl gently, pushing the glasses up on his nose as an afterthought. Tony giggled in the microphone. Bruce was glad no one else could hear him.

"B-but I gave you drinks!"

"Of course you did!" Coriander batted her eyes as she gave a small chuckle. "It's your job!"

"It was purely professional, right?" Bruce flashed him a close-lipped smile. Being an older man, he had a slight edge of intimidation. No one wanted to upset an older man. Especially one as well sculpted as him. Running from the government, physically assisting people in India, gave him a humbly chiseled physique.

"Y-yeah!" stammered the guy. "Absolutely!"

"I'm glad I found you again!" Cori snuggled into his side, tapping Bruce's nose. "I've been waiting to get you alone in the Ferris wheel _all day_!"

Nothing made a man run faster than hearing innuendos between another man and his woman. It was synonymous with the mortification of walking in on strangers having sex.

"I'll see you around." his blue eyes widened. The man quickly turned on heel and sped away. Bruce and Coriander shared a laugh as the line moved again, putting them closer to the rotating seats. Since most people were busy with the rollercoasters, trying to win oversized prizes, or stuffing their faces, they were able to slip in with the preceding eight people.

"You were _genius_, Bruce! I could just hug your face! Except…that might suffocate you." Coriander settled for patting his leg gratefully. Bruce smiled, snorting through his nose to disperse the blush contaminating his cheeks. She was blunt but kind, curious but not nosy. Cori was sweet, possessing a naïve kind of charm owed to her lack of common sense. Her eyes were honest and sincere, which Bruce liked.

"T—thanks. T-Tony just told me what to say. You looked like you needed help."

"Oh did he?" she crossed her arms amusedly. Tony never could keep his hands to himself. Had to find a way to be in everything.

"I mean—I still would've done something. I'm just not, uh, good with the whole alpha male thing and confronting and—"

"Yeah, I know." Coriander calmly gave him an out before his stuttering, stumbling, and explaining became too long. Bruce sighed languidly. _That _is what he liked about her. She understood like Tony, but left him to his own habits like Pepper. He stifled another chuckle, listening to Tony complain about how he deviated from his awesome conversation suggestions.

Bruce was eloquent, and usually reserved brilliant, snarky comments for a bad mood, but he didn't have those limitations around Cori. When defending her – like he did to the college when they questioned her IQ and the ability to continue her degrees after the surgery – they came naturally. It was somewhat startling how sharp his tongue was. "So, how did you come up with those remarks?" Bruce asked shyly – conversation was necessary until the Ferris wheel landed.

"The lover thing was a shot in the dark." Coriander shrugged. "As for the rest of it, well, you're cute as a button! Well, you're scholarly. Stately. Maybe not 'cute button' material, but I can't really think of an expression that fits an intelligent guy with humble charm." his temperature shot up effortlessly. He was sure his clothes would explode into flames any moment now.

Bruce couldn't think of anything to do, and just rubbed her kneecap appreciatively. It wasn't weird. She knew his affections were light and proper. His thoughts may not be, but his actions were. He didn't want to scare her off.

The Other Guy needed contact as much as he did. "Happy to help." Bruce assured.

"Thank you for that help." Coriander kissed his cheek. She didn't see why she couldn't. Tony annoyed the hell of her by doing it, and Bruce actually deserved the act. That, and she wanted to see him blush. He curled up bashfully like some adorable little boy when blushing.

It was adorable.

The Ferris wheel touched down. Coriander waited on Bruce, joining up with Pepper and Tony shortly after. Tony grinned widely, wearing his usual shit-eating smirk. Bruce's cheeks darkened again. "Seems like you can cockblock without the Big Guy, huh?"

"I suppose." Bruce shrugged. "I can break genetalia without the Big Guy, too. You'll find out if you make another joke." promised Bruce. He grinned jovially, indicating he was kidding, but it was always fun to see Tony panic about his anatomy. Pepper giggled. She'd accidentally hurt Tony once or twice in their haste to have a quickie.

_That_ had been an interesting and informative doctor's office trip.

"Hail Bruce, brother of science and gamma radiated king of cockblocking." Tony gave a mock bow. He smirked devilishly, whipping around to run. Bruce may chase him for the hell of it. His science brother was always looking for way to get back at him. Tony couldn't help it that he was so fun to set off!

"I don't know whether to be amused or disappointed—Cori stole a bite of Pepper's slushy—because this is the funniest thing I've seen at the fair all day."

"Be amused." Pepper chose for her. Tony's cackle and crow-like tease was rare. It made her smile. They started for the car, eager to see Tony locked inside the car as he laughed at Bruce.


	6. Stark Expo

We Need to Quit Meeting like This

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**AN: **I know I'm not giving many time to review, but I found time to update again. I wanted to do the Stark Expo chapter, also, because I want to play with bitchy Cori xD. Drachegirl14, I hear you (though I don't really know what you mean by Bruce's fantasies. I'm a bit confused there). That will kind of/sort of happen in one of the oneshots I have coming up. Happy birthday to DaRandomzChick!

This idea is credited to ThoughtlessRage.

* * *

Expo means 'Exhibition', Not 'Exposed'

Bruce instantly regretted coming to support Tony. He knew Tony was flamboyant and a socialite, but wasn't expecting his heart to pound the minute he walked in. Stunned by swinging lights of four different colors, blinded by a stage trimmed with bright white bulbs, and deafened by overhead speakers, Bruce wanted to do nothing but run. It was impossible, though, because Tony knew he was coming and expected him here. A glass of water waited on him at the door, handed off by the attendant ushering him to a reserved section of sprawling tiled floor.

People were packaged like canned sardines and in various states of elegant undress and sultry temptation. He received a few curious stares – _who is that man? How does he know Tony? I want to be in that area! _– as the crowd sipped champagne or wine, indulged in h'orderves, and danced. Bruce knew the money put into the exhibit could easily rival the budget of the fanciest country club, but he felt trapped in some college frat party. They were dancing so…loosely. It made him cringe.

The Other Guy was mesmerized by the swaying bodies and bits of exposed flesh. Bruce could feel him watching with the awe of a five year old and the bourgeoning lust of a teenager. This was not a good situation in the slightest, and Tony knew that beforehand. Damn him and the unspoken, solid confines of "science bros" law! He wished Tony had never thought of the phrase, much less _liked_ him despite The Other Guy.

"Bruce!" he could hardly hear over the music, "Come here!" he found Tony in the company of Pepper and a young woman sporting a startlingly tiny red outfit. It was styled to look like Tony's Iron Man suit, an arc reactor piece in the center of her bosoms and gold trim along the bottoms to match her "gloved" hands. She was pale, a soft cream color accented by the red. Her green eyes were dark and rich against the crimson hue, but bright with the overhead lights. "This is Coriander. Wanted you to meet her." Tony explained as the raven-haired girl knocked back a shot of scotch and smacked her lips before offering a hand.

She didn't look old enough to drink, he thought. Her long legs looked magnificent in the bottoms, though. Coriander's body was honed and sleek, her legs sporting similarly corded muscles that gave her a fit, feminine allure. "I hang out with Tony and Pepper a lot. Heard you were moving in to work with Tony. Wanted to meet you." Coriander half-yelled over the music and crowd. Bruce heard her, but was distracted by the cherry lipstick framing her white teeth.

Coriander had The Other Guy's undivided attention because of that color. It was like a beacon pulling him in. Red was a bold color used to represent passion and intensity and – in some cultures – fertility. Red, in itself, was beautiful. The color suited her well.

"Why are you all dressed up?" Bruce wondered, watching her place the empty shot glass on a passing waiter's tray and take another.

"I'm one of the Ironette dancers." Coriander grinned, knocking back the second shot.

"Why are you drinking if you have to perform?"

"Because I'll be dancing next to a bitch I don't like." she chuckled honestly. Normally he'd be flustered and disgusted by such harsh language. From her, though, it seemed like brutal honesty. Bruce could relate; some days those words just _needed _to be said. Often times, they were the only accurate way to describe someone.

"She's my little bodyguard." joked Tony.

"Pepper would get in trouble for it." snorted Coriander. "I won't. I can blame it on the brain implant, at least. Not being "all there" and whatnot." Tony ruffled her wavy curls fondly. Coriander playfully swatted him away. The lights began to dim, leaving Bruce temporarily disoriented as his eyes adjusted. With one last shake of his hand Coriander followed Tony up on stage, the two of them disappearing behind a velvet curtain.

Tony gave a small speech of welcome before introducing the Ironettes. Bruce's eyes never left the stage. Coriander and a blonde woman with long, wavy hair and brown eyes were at the front of the stage. The choreography was hypnotizing. The overhead lights played off the tiny, tight suits well enough to make each woman seem like some deity. Their bodies moved in a curious and enviable fashion, muscles and technique flexing parts of their anatomy in ways that would put strippers to shame.

Bruce wanted to hang his head in shame, embarrassed that he found the pop of Coriander's hips attractive. He was mortified that the wiggle of her backside inspired something wickedly hot and vicious to tear through him. Images of her writing beneath him, twining that limber body around him from behind, filled his mind. They were unprompted and graphic; their suddenness would've made Bruce yelp if he had the air to speak. Oblivious to the greedy twirls and deliberate over-reaching movements of Coriander's stage partner, Bruce indulged in one last fantasy of the young woman hooking long, strong legs around his bare hips before the curtain cut off his muse.

Over the music, cheering, and clapping, no one could hear him panting. His heart thundered unmercifully, powered by his heated veins. Something needed to happen – and _fast _– before he exploded from the long-denied surge of lust welling up within him. Bruce trembled as he perspired, hoping the green in his veins was just a result of the lighting overhead. The Other Guy was excited, and likely wanted to be up close and personal with the young dancer.

This was an awful situation to be in. Bruce wanted to vacate the area, but couldn't move his feet. The Other Guy wanted to stay. His broiling blood cooled slightly when the blonde approached, crooked grin on her tanned face as she sashayed to him in tall, red boots.

_NOT WANT YOU! _Hulk screamed, _GO AWAY!_

Bruce buried his hands in his pocket to combat the urge to hit her. Hulk would knock her aside like a bug in this state. "I saw you staring at me." she purred, batting dark eyelashes. "Do you like the way I—she rolled her hips and fluffed up her hair—move?"

He was utterly terrified for two reasons. One was the Hulk's childlike displeasure at her presence. The other was the fact that she was gorgeous – mistaken about his fixation, but gorgeous – and _talking _to him. Bruce's brain shut down. Hulk was too loud in there for him to speak, anyways.

"I like 'em shy." she winked. "Ooh, and you're _sweating_!" the girl gave a throaty laugh, daring to approach him and nudge aside the moistened collar of his undershirt. Her fingers deliberately drifted between the two top buttons, slipping through the space curiously. Bruce trembled, partly from Hulk's rage and partly from arousal. How long had it been since a woman touched him?

How long had it been since he let himself be touched?

"I know something that might help cool you down." she leaned forward, hoping to draw his eyes to her ample chest struggling against the top.

"Back off, Little Red Riding Whore!" snapped a new voice. Bruce whipped his head up in time with the blonde's. Coriander crossed her arms just beneath her breasts, glaring daggers into the blonde. "Go leach off someone else, Trish!"

"I'm just introducing myself." Trish batted her eyes coolly at Coriander, raising one leg cutely towards her buttocks.

"I have a headache. Don't mess with me. Don't make me repeat myself either, bitch. I said _back off_." hissed Coriander. Bruce was unexplainably – unfortunately? – turned on by the sudden display of agitation. A woman who could hold her own was sexy. She certainly had The Other Guy's attention (not that she hadn't before). He was also being defended – which didn't happen often – and that added a new layer of gratitude and surprise to the stew of emotions brewing in him.

"I'd have a headache too after _that _lackluster performance." replied Trish icily. She continued to twirl Bruce's tie around her finger. Bruce didn't know whether to cower under Coriander's flaming emerald eyes or worship them. This girl was _pissed_! Hulk bounced excitedly against his mind, pleased to see the lithe dancer gifted with a sharp tongue he and Bruce could admire.

"It's not from dancing. It's because of your voice filtering through the fake-ass nose on your face." Coriander pinched the bridge of her nose. This girl really didn't get it, did she? She was doing this for Bruce's sake. Trish's reputation as a money hungry leech was well known; Cori didn't want one of Tony's friends getting hurt in the crossfire. Pepper could man Tony and fend her off, but Bruce had no one.

He was like a wounded lamb in the middle of wolf territory. There was no doubt in her mind that Bruce could fend for himself, but Coriander wanted to do it. Trish had pissed her off by trying to knock her over and consume the whole stage. Aside from that, Bruce was shaking and sweating enough to pop out of his clothes. Was Trish aggravating his medical condition?

Tony said little about Bruce – disregarding lab jargon and projects – but Cori knew he had some sort of anxiety problem. Or heart issue. He didn't need Trish's insistent ways. Trish's jaw dropped, as did Bruce's, and she stood stiff as a board in indignation.

"_What _did you say?"

"I didn't stutter, bitch!" Coriander bolted forward like some bird of prey, putting herself between Bruce and Trish. Bruce knew he should be watching the fight, should be saying something to ease her anger, but couldn't bring himself to say anything or look away from her backside. The whole scene was just unexpected and moving too quickly.

_HULK WANT, HULK WANT, HULK WANT! TOUCH, BANNER, TOUCH! _encouraged Hulk. Bruce could lift his hand and brush a few fingers over her tightly dressed rump. Cup it, even…maybe squeeze it. It would seem like an accident, or a failed attempt to get her attention. He could do it, and _god _did he want to after her display of rage and sinful flexing.

"The crude language of a child." laughed Trish as she tossed back her abundance of blonde hair. She was eleven years Cori's senior. Being older didn't mean she was entitled to the prey she sought. "I'm simply getting to _know _Dr. Banner. I've heard he's done some fabulous things in science."

"Holy shit!" Coriander looked genuinely surprised. "You know a school subject! Why…why that means you did more than give blowjobs and apply makeup in high school! I am _floored_, Trish, _floored_! Quick, where's that reporter from Channel Five?" she ran in a sloppy circle, pretending to look for someone important.

_Her wit is stunning. _Banner mused. _Biting, but stunning._

"I think you need to stop _right there_ before something _unfortunate_ happens." warned Trish. Coriander straightened like she was made of iron. Her eyes narrowed into emerald slits.

"Is that a threat? Come closer and say that again. I _dare _you!" Coriander squared her shoulders. Like Bruce, Trish must've seen the hellfire in Coriander's eyes. She looked like nothing short of a coiled predator about to strike. Trish took off, weaving through tables with Coriander hot on her heels. Bruce jumped up to follow after her.

The Other Guy saw it as a game of chase, and wanted to catch her. It was like a reflex, really, to catch running things. Bruce – the First Guy, the intelligent one, the _doctor_ – knew Trish would not meet a happy end at Coriander's hands. Using The Other Guy's power and speed, Banner managed to cut Coriander off and sling her over his shoulder. _How can women run in these things? _Bruce wondered as he turned his face away from her flailing boots with pointy supports.

"Let me go!" Coriander flopped against him, growling as she tried to crawl down his back. "She insulted me! Aside from that, she was trying to use you! You need someone to defend your honor!" Bruce used Hulk's strength to pin her legs as he kicked open a door that led into a vacant, polished hallway.

"I can defend my own honor." Bruce huffed, throwing her down to the ground. Coriander's body locked as she stuck a hard landing. Ignoring his raging heart, the temptation and implications of the position, Bruce pinned her to the wall with his chest.

"Then why didn't you?" Coriander breathed, picking pieces of hair from her mouth. Bruce's best stern gaze softened slightly.

"I…I can't. My condition makes it taxing."

"Oh." and just like that, Coriander's furious mind calmed. That made sense. She couldn't be angry with Bruce pressed up against her like this. The girl nearly melted inside once she felt the chiseled muscles through his attire; he was one of those secretly buff nerds! He fixed his skewed glasses, focusing his brown-eyed gaze on her.

Her attention waned as slivers of neon green seemed to expand in his brown eyes. Was that part of his condition, too? Or was he just hazel-eyed? "But…thank you. I felt trapped. That was…you were…" Bruce couldn't finish. There were too many compliments to give. Too much gratitude to express.

He pursed his lips, deciding to shut up before rambling broke the spell of their unconventional moment.

"You're welcome." Coriander patted his shoulder. In the boots she was exactly eye level with him. Bruce grinned shyly, but the smile quickly contorted with pain. He groaned, body quivering relentlessly.

HULK WANT MEET! HULK WANT MEET! CORI NICE TO PUNY BANNER! THAT…NICE. HULK WANT MEET AND GET NICENESS, TOO!

"H…hey! Are you okay? Do you need a doctor? What's going on?" Bruce dipped towards the floor, hissing as his clothes began to split at the seams. "Stay here, okay? I'll go get—" he pushed a palm into her thighs, sending her back against the wall with enough force to make her head spin. She could feel his hand quaking against her body; the shivering was being transferred. Coriander started to tremble as Bruce began to grow and turn green. What the _hell _was going on?

Clinging to the wall, hoping to blend into it, Coriander just stared up at the hunched thing. He was nearly sitting on his butt and he was _still _taller than her. Massive, too. At least four times bigger than the door they exited. Ten fat, green fingers gingerly curled around her waist, picking her from the wall.

"Hi…" the green thing smiled, showcasing large teeth. Her hair bounced slightly with the puff of air his dispelled. He looked at her intently, analyzing her like a curious child.

"Hi." swallowed Coriander. His green eyes crinkled at the edges, delighted with her response.

"Hulk think it nice, Banner being defended. People not want defend Banner and Hulk. Cori nice." he petted her head approvingly, one large finger stroking her dark locks.

"O-oh. W-well, thank you! He didn't look very comfortable, so I stepped in."

"Good thing. Hulk want smash annoying lady!" he threw a meaty hand into the floor, pulling back to roll bits of floor from his palm. Coriander saw the walls shake when he did that.

"She _is _annoying. Sometimes people bring out the worst in you. Trish is one of those special people that do it without meaning to. I couldn't help myself!"

"Trish make Cori angry." he observed, blinking neon eyes at her. "Cori get funny angry!" Hulk chuckled. She was almost like an angry child compared to him. Her rage could do no harm, unlike his own. It was amusing, really.

"Hulk help make Cori calm. No get angry if calm. Banner do this all the time! It work very well." promised Hulk, poking her into the fold of one giant elbow as he began to rock her back and forth. Things like understanding and quiet made nice, calming environments, Hulk knew. Tony always made those kinds of arrangements for Bruce. Hulk also knew contact was important.

Tony provided those things – quiet, comfort, and understanding – which made Bruce enjoy his company. Hulk had to admire him for the effort, too. Coriander's galloping heart settled once she realized that the massive thing meant her no harm. His actions were actually endearing, and belied his gargantuan frame. Tony blew through the door, looking haggard and worried.

Feeling the building shake and trying to calm everyone was quite the task. Seeing Hulk quietly preoccupied made him feel better. And a bit pissed since he spent all that energy diffusing unnecessary panic. The green giant grinned down at him. "Hulk like Tony's ex—po." announced Hulk, testing the abbreviation tentatively.

Somehow – in a very weird, relaxing way – that made Tony grin.

"That's….great, Big Guy!" Tony breathed.

"Hulk and Banner find something nice, just like Tony said." Coriander blushed as his voice rumbled through his chest and her body.

"Yep! You and Banner did really well! I'm proud, but do you think you can sit the next expo out, Big Guy?" utterly calmed, Hulk began to recede into Banner. He'd gotten what he came for, even if he didn't know that contact was what he wanted upon arrival.

"If Coriander will stay with me to keep him in check." teased Brue airily, exhausted in the remains of his shirt. Coriander just laughed, hoping her cheeks weren't as red as they felt.

"I really _do _throw the most exciting expos in town." Tony stroked his beard as he laughed, dodging the red boot flung at his head.


	7. The Super Villain is Super Screwed

We Need to Quit Meeting like This

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**AN: **The idea for a 'costume party' chapter is still on. I just didn't want to do it today. Still have to play with that idea. This will be on the shorter side because I'm totally under the weather. Got hit by something my niece and nephew brought over from school.

My head feels like it's stuffed with cotton, I sound like a sleepy little boy, and my throat hurts. I have a smidgen of medical terminology homework to finish up, and if I get that done tomorrow I may update something bigger (like _The Pursuit of Liberty_).

This idea was contributed by amy.

I made up a super villain (as far as I know. I have no way to read the _Avengers _comic stuff) named Time Bomb. It's a hint at another Steve Rogers/Liberty story I may do.

* * *

The Super Villain is Super Screwed

Because Pepper thought Tony actually needed to _do _something besides throw crazy parties, complain about board meetings, and ward off the press with blunt remarks, he was checking his e-mail. There were e-mails from investors, other company members, three reminders from Pepper, and an unusual sender. None of his contacts were saved with complete capital letters. The subject lines were seldom written in all capital letters, either. LET'S GO FOR ROUND TWO, it said.

Tony clicked on it, sipping his coffee idly. JARVIS was built to defend against viruses and spam, so what could this be? What in the world was he going 'round two' on? He was relatively sure he knew all of his drinking buddies. Hammer came to mind, but Tony knew contact was forbidden as part of his house arrest. He was largely competitive with Captain, but Captain lived with him (and probably couldn't understand e-mail)!

The e-mail opened up into a live-streaming video. A creeping feeling iced Tony's gut, causing his muscles to clench as a big, green digital timer began to countdown at light-speed. He vaguely recognized the man hiding his nose and mouth with a bandanna as the one responsible for ruining Coriander's car. It was the man he'd handed off to police in order to extract Cori from her car and fly to the hospital. Tony relaxed slightly, able to see Coriander shifting a tad against the ropes.

At least she was alive.

_"Remember me, Stark?!" _the man cried angrily. _"I'm the guy you gave to the cops. If you don't get me fifty grand in two hours I'll be giving _her _to the morgue! Drop it at the warehouse on Lexington and Borrough!_" it was the shortest ransom call he'd ever received. Bits and pieces of his own captivity drifted to the surface. Tony shook them away adamantly. Now was not the time to think of that.

Now was the time for action. For revenge. Pepper came in, looking frantic and waving her phone. Tony shushed her, making a call of his own. Manhattan PD was supposed to alert him if Ralph Esterhazy escaped, and they had not.

He was _fuming_! Their quick, fumbling apology was tossed aside like trash. Tony accepted nothing less than the jail's footage. Bruce drove him to the police station; Pepper was too flighty and Tony wasn't calm enough to man a vehicle. Dr. Banner had little knowledge of the chaos erupting around him – something about text messages from a dance studio, a hostage situation, an escaped convict, and a ransom – but knew The Other Guy was awake.

Hulk was a basic creature, and could interpret emotions very well. Tony was furious, something The Other Guy didn't usual see. His tiny human fists were balled tightly, forcing every nerve to the surface of his flesh. Something was very wrong. "We thought it was a trick!" was the first thing they heard when Tony exploded through the doors.

"Can the bullshit and excuses. Get me that footage _now_!" snarled Tony, slamming his hand down on the desk.

"R-right this way, Mr. Stark." stuttered the terrified policeman. Bruce managed a slightly apologetic frown at the onlookers as they passed. They were ushered into a room stacked with tiny televisions and live footage. On their left, behind the door, were multiple glass-faced cabinets with labeled tapes. "Talley, pop in the tape with Esterhazy's cell. Speed up to ten fifteen this morning." pawing through labeled tapes, rolling back to the VCR-like system, the controller fast-forwarded the tape until a few minutes before ten fifteen.

"This guy can…teleport?" Bruce breathed, adjusting his glasses. That type of technology was only possible with the bifrost! How could a jailbird get such power? Teleportation seemed to be the only explanation for the bright, neon blue portal Esterhazy hopped through. It was strong – whatever it was – because the luminescence overtook the camera frame.

There were five seconds unaccounted for because of the receding portal. Just looking at the recording gave Bruce a small migraine. "We thought it was just a joke." shrugged the controller. "Inmates have come into fire crackers and sparklers before. They either try to fry the camera, burn the bars, or daze someone long enough to get away. No one has ever actually escaped."

"Wait, back that up!" Tony's mind buzzed with distress and confusion. Where had that light come from? _Everything_ had an explanation. Esterhazy looked to be carving something into the cell wall. It would support their suspicion of sparkler use, but a sparkler wouldn't cause _that_!

Esterhazy's carving took one or two seconds. It would've easily been missed in his general movements. "Let's visit the cell." offered Bruce, gently pulling Tony from the cameras before he holed himself up in the room. The escorting police officer took them to Esterhazy's cell. "TB." Bruce scratched his head; readjusted his glasses to better see the deep etchings.

"Those aren't Esterhazy's initials. He didn't have a cellmate. We've got a mastermind. We'll make the drop and get our information." decided Tony. It was the only way to make sure he got his answers. Coriander would be sure to walk out alive if he complied. Esterhazy wouldn't _dare _cross Iron Man or the newly formed Avengers.

"B—but Tony! He _knows _you! That's a very dangerous move! You have protection. The hostage doesn't."

"Which is why I'm sending _you_, Bruce." Tony turned quietly to his friend. Bruce swallowed, surprised at the new mission. He only intended to be Tony's driver. Nothing else. The Other Guy wasn't good in small spaces.

The hostage could easily, accidentally be hurt.

"M—me? Tony, I don't think-!" genius Bruce licked his dry lips, threw his hands up, and started on a heavily loaded list of why this was bad. Tony cut all that short by merely looking at him. Bruce felt his resolve dissolve. His eyes were near pleading; any second Bruce anticipated hearing the 'science bros' card.

"You'd be the perfect drop boy, Bruce." Tony pointed out. _Oh yeah, stroke my ego, _Bruce frowned, _nice tactic_. "We send you in, you act like you're dropping the money, and you bust out the Big Guy. It all has a happy ending."

"So you say! You know he—"

"Wants to smash things? Has been feeling a bit cooped up because you're afraid to let him out? I think he has more control than you give him credit for." Tony squeezed his shoulder gently. "He's got you in there, too, Bruce. He'll know what to do."

Tony's phone buzzed. He answered it. "Need more convincing?" he queried, looking at Bruce.

"I…I don't think so."

"Fantastic, so I guess I can delete all these worried messages between Pepper and the blitzed teachers of Point Taken."

"_What?_"

"Yep. Esterhazy ran inside with cans of mace and nitrous oxide grenades." Tony knew that would be the cincher. The Other Guy was particularly vicious about public endangerment. It was partly because people feared him and thought him ill-suited to walk the streets. He was easily enraged at normal people hurting their own kind, painting themselves as more of a monster than he, who actually looked like one. One day, when he quashed enough of the criminals, society would accept him.

This was just another chance to prove himself. It may be even more helpful than his other attempts; this girl was precious to Tony. Tony was very influential.

"Grenades sound pretty advanced for a convict." admitted Bruce

"Hence the mastermind. Let's get some answers, Bruce!"

"Fine."

* * *

"Once Stark gets here with that fifty grand, I'm outta here!" Coriander heard the man say for the hundredth time. Her head pounded dully, acting as a tempo to her ebbing and flowing vision. She felt…slow. And happy. It was frightening to recognize that she was in danger, that her life could end today, and be able to only grin.

She remembered the canisters exploding as the man threw them in. Recalled her teachers screaming as they tried to wipe their eyes. And then…nothing. The room was too full of gas to see anything. Ropes rubbed at her legs as she shifted, trying to turn and see something – _anything _– in the dark area.

Light was present, but exceptionally weak. Coriander felt surrounded by candles burning up the last of their wick. Her eyes could barely make out the wooden walls. Dirty windows filtering pre-noon light helped more than the real lighting. Most of the hanging lamps overhead gave audible protests detailing the last of their life.

Three had gone out completely since she woke up here. Pointing her toes against a hard surface – _concrete_? she wondered – jarred her cold muscles. Her legs tingled unmercifully; she winced. The sharp stabs of pain kept her awake, at least. Moving her feet allowed her to feel the abrasive rope.

It was impossible to count the times he'd wound them around her legs, but she knew it was the same type that bound her hands. The wooden chair back groaned as she wiggled. Unfortunately, it wasn't old enough to collapse under her dancer's muscles. Her wrists were tied independently to the two nail-ridden slabs connecting the back to the seat. _If I can…get my feet out…I have a fighting…chance._

Cori would have two options, then: kick or use the chair as a weapon. Years of dancing, testing and surpassing the flexibility of the human body, had left her able to do amazing things. One of those things was her ability to flip. If her legs were free, she could use the seat as a springboard and back-flip. In doing that, the chair would be connected to her outstretched arms.

She could swing it like a bat and stun him, or so she hoped. The man seemed only to have a pen-like object and a small gun. Coriander refused to die at someone else's hand. Not after Tony put her brain back together. It was a second chance at life, and she wasn't about to let someone else take it from her.

Not without a fight. Not when it was the same man who _gave _her that brain damage. She hadn't been able to see his face at the time of the attack, but gathered he was the culprit. "Round two" echoed in her mind like a motivator. This guy didn't deserve a second chance to make her a victim, and he wouldn't get it. While he paced before the middle of the room, Coriander set to untangling her feet.

Her ankles popped in protest, but she continued. Like unlacing a corset, she began to slowly and carefully unwind the confines of the rope by slipping her feet through in an upwards direction. "Where will you go?" Coriander asked hoarsely. Her throat was chilly and constricted painfully. Keeping him distracted would buy her time.

"Anywhere I want. Any _time _I want." he hissed, waving the gun absently in her direction. He wanted her to shut up. All of his focus was on the man dropping the cash.

"You can't go back in time. It's not possible."

"Oh, but it is." the man laughed. "Once I give Schmidt this money, I'll be able to do whatever the _hell_ I want."

"Schmidt? Who's Schmidt?"

"Some genius crackpot. SHUT UP! I WILL PUT A BULLET THROUGH YOUR _FACE_!"

"Is that your boss, Schmidt? Are you paying him like a good lackey?" Coriander grinned coolly. Ruffling men's feathers was easy to do. They hated ruined pride. To defend their dignity, to reclaim it, they would go off on shouting rants. She hoped that was the case here.

If she died – a possibility she easily considered – they would at least have something on him.

"I am _not _a lackey! Schmidt and I are even! We both want the same thing!"

"And what is that?"

"To get rid of the Avengers. We're starting with Iron Man since he and I have a personal score to settle."

"You think you can kill the Avengers?" Coriander gave a genuine laugh. Wasn't one of them supposed to be a god from another planet or something? How could he hope to kill a master assassin?

"Not through direct confrontation. Schmidt can go back in time. We'll kill them all! Babbling, _stupid _infants are no match for grown men!"

"I'll remember that name, Schmidt. Tony and the others will find him before you get out of here." warned Coriander. The man laughed.

"Dead women can't remember a _damn_ thing." she heard the gun click from across the room. The sound chilled her veins. Could he really hit her in such terrible lighting? He hadn't come close while she regained her coherency. There was no way to tell if he was outfitted with night-vision.

_I'm going to die_…Coriander trembled. Damn her luck! Both feet were now free – chaffed, irritated, but free – and she had nowhere to go. The chair would weigh her down. Her body wasn't completely warmed up. Either way she'd be a sitting duck in the vast room.

The tension vanished as knocking sounded. Her heart eased back down into her breast. His back was to her, and Coriander used that advantage to heave her body over the chair. Muscles locked, bones popped – numb and stiff – but her weight and gravity carried her to the back. She felt her legs shudder, muscles cramping in mutiny against the effort she demanded of them.

Coriander bit back a growl of frustration as her legs folded. The chair fell back into her, scraping against the concrete. Thankfully, her captor was too busy yanking the deliveryman in. She was an afterthought. Wincing at the concrete digging into her knees, Coriander stood.

Lights were thrown, lights she didn't even know the warehouse possessed. Cori and the deliveryman cried out in anguish. She ripped her eyes open, fighting off the instinct to shut them, and bit her lip to stifle the scream. The light would surely tear her eyes apart! A _thump! _echoed, dust dancing in the air as the bag was thrown towards her assailant.

"You! Don't move!" demanded her kidnapper.

"I just need to clean my glasses…" replied her savior quietly. His voice was laced with sensibility and calm.

"I will put a bullet in you, man!"

"I'd like to see you try."

_POW! POW!_

"NO!"

"That…tickle." the deep voice wafted across the cold building. It was rough and playful. Coriander felt the floor shake as the big thing moved forward. "Now Hulk's turn. HULK SMASH!" the smaller human bolted away from him, able to escape. Hulk growled, damning his size and power because it slowed him.

Coriander swallowed thickly. He was coming. Coming straight _for_ her! She had one shot. The glinting gun would surely be pressed to her head and fired if she missed.

"YOU COME ANY CLOSER, FREAK, AND I WILL—" his head was turned, issuing a warning to the green thing. She flung the chair, confident that his momentum would send him straight into it. A simple pop of her corded muscles and a bending twist had the chair legs pointing at his neck. The man skidded to an abrupt halt, uplifted by the left-side legs. One caught him under the jaw, the second speared him beneath the armpit.

He fell back with a groan.

"Hope that last part was 'shit myself'." Coriander huffed, suddenly flushed by the motion heating her frosty body. The chair landed thickly on the ground, taking her with it. She breathed shallowly, enduring the sting of concrete and movement. The big, green thing gave another rumbling laugh. Was he…amused by that?

She watched him snatch the man up in a vice grip. He turned electric green eyes to her. The creature tentatively placed his massive toes on the edge of the seat. It shattered instantly, cracking like toothpicks. Coriander felt her arms lighten, and was thrown on her back at the absence of her wooden anchor.

"Who TB?" questioned the creature. The man said nothing, merely trembled. Coriander saw his green fist tighten. Did she hear _bones _cracking?

"T-Time Bomb. He calls himself Time Bomb." whispered the captor hurriedly in a wheeze. Blood flew as he talked.

"More on Time Bomb! More on Time Bomb!" he hollered angrily, shaking the man like a doll.

"I—I can't! I don't know what that shit is! He—he's got, like, some alien stuff!"

"Alien stuff?" Hulk parroted. Alien things weren't common here. Things of alien origin were only in Banner's astronomy books, Thor's world, or Tony's governmental conspiracy novels.

"I swear, I'm telling you all I know!"

"Police judge that. Men lie to bigger things." Hulk snorted. He may not speak much, but knew of the world. Bruce had done well to teach him their bias. To explain how people would react to him and what they wanted to do to him. It's why he could never let himself be caught…why he always had to run.

Until he met Tony, that was. Hulk kicked the door from its hinges, bathing his body and the captor in growing sunshine. Police had been called in strictly for containment. They knew better than to assist an Avenger unless asked. Especially the one Tony sent.

Hulk dropped the terrified assailant on the closest hood, satisfied at the metallic _thump_! that had the evil man twisting in pain. It's what people like him deserved. Tony trusted Bruce – and him – to retrieve the girl, so Hulk went inside to grab her. She was picking pieces of wood from her wrists, trying to unwind fragments of rope. Her head snapped up, green eyes seizing his.

She was grateful, he could tell. Scared, too. "Girl Cori?" Hulk bent at the knees, settling his weight on gigantic feet.

"Th-that's me. Y-You're Hulk, I take it?" Hulk nodded. He lowered a hand, inviting her with the slight wiggle of his fingers. Coriander stumbled towards the warmth pouring off him, eager to be thawed.

"Tony send Hulk to get Cori. Tony very worried. Need Hulk's strength to protect, to keep safe." he laced his fingers together, creating a warm cradle. Goose bumps rose from every pore. Coriander breathed a sigh of relief, throwing herself back into the fiery skin. His burning skin was like heaven to her. Hulk kept his eyes trained on her tiny form; traffic would avoid him.

There was no need to worry about cars or people. His attention was solely on the girl actually _enjoying _his touch. Hulk didn't care if she clung to him to warm her icy skin. It was nice enough to have someone _want_ him. She was exactly the person he'd been looking for: grateful, affectionate, and accepting.

Hulk gave a small croon to show he appreciated her. Bruce taught him that people did nice things to keep their bond strong. If he showed that he could protect her, that he liked her company, she would stay. She would like him and be the one person in a million to defend him. Or so he hoped.

If not, he could memorize her tight hug around one finger and save it for later. One good touch was all a raging, broken soul needed. His large feet had them before Stark Tower in no time. "Thank…you…" Hulk stroked her dark hair. Who knew when he'd get to hold another person like this?

"No, thank _you_! You saved my life!" Coriander hugged his large finger with zeal. She kissed the curled tip happily. Fuck the people who scuttled away from his feet or whispered to their children as he passed. He saved her _life_! His skin paled as he began to shrink.

Coriander felt trapped in some free-falling ride. They plummeted to the ground, but never reached it. She landed in a heap atop a partially dressed man. "You're welcome." he groaned out, wishing her rounded hips hadn't tried to impale his groin. Within minutes Tony, Pepper, and Steve surrounded them.

"You should thank _her_ now, Banner."

"Why?" asked Bruce, dazed.

"Police quizzed Esterhazy with the information she coaxed out of him. Esterhazy rolled on Schmidt quicker than a wheel!" grinned Steve. Tony grimaced at his old-timey comparison.

"And?" he didn't even know who Schmidt was! Except for Time Bomb…whatever that was about. Picking through The Other Guy's memories was taxing after returning to his human form.

"Schmidt is apparently the descendant of the Schmidt that _Captain _fought years ago." Tony informed, dropping one of Bruce's arms around his shoulders as Captain assisted Coriander.

"The original Schmidt apparently kept some old HYDRA tech meant to harness the Tesseract's energy. Using modern technology, he created a device to siphon ionic—atomic?—_airborne _trace particles from the portal used to summon the Chitauri." Steve expounded.

"Instead of wiring the machines to evaporate people, though, he manipulated it to tear holes in time." Tony finished.

"And he's a nutcase because he carries a grudge for Captain. For what happened in World War II." Pepper added. _That explains the 'Time Bomb' thing_, mused Bruce.

"Clint and 'Tasha have gone with Thor to destroy his stash. All you need to do, Bruce, is sit back and _relax_." assured Tony. That was easy enough for Bruce to do. His tired body sank into Tony's plush couch. The genius was out within minutes, drained by his change into the Hulk and the pandemonium from earlier.

He awoke later to the smell of cookies. Bruce had control, and made sure his body was a temple if he ever needed to run, but couldn't resist a chocolate chip cookie. The smell of freshly baked chocolate hung in the air. A glass of milk waited nearby. Tucked beneath the plate was a note.

_Thank you. To both of you._

Bruce bit into the cookie, pleased to have it break off in his mouth. The edges were a bit tough, but the inside was warm and chewy. Some of the cookies were darker than others, but none seemed burnt. They were perfectly imperfect. Like the girl snoring richly in the adjacent armchair, wrapped snugly in a blanket.


	8. Dancing Away with my Heart

We Need to Quit Meeting like This

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**AN: **Thanks to ThoughtlessRage, the only reviewer of the last prompt. Thanks to all the people who've reviewed on this booklet, period! In this AU oneshot MARVEL (Maintained Architecture Renovated for Very Excellent Learning, in this case) is a university for heroes in training, extraordinary people, and a handful of recommended students (likely OCs of mine or someone like Pepper Potts). Coriander's age has been tweaked slightly so that Bruce doesn't seem like a cradler-robber…and so Cori can actually attend college; they're a year apart (Bruce, obviously, is older).

Because I am using "Marvel" as the university, minor characters such as Beast and the like will be mentioned (as Beast was once a member, but that is an example). The AU idea of MARVEL University, however, focuses on the characters from _Avengers_.

To ThoughtlessRage: Yes, these are all going to stay in the _Avengers _fandom. Cross-overs aren't really my thing. Some prompts may be AU at best, but that's it. Oneshot title is credited to Lady Antebellum and their producer.

PLEASE take the poll on my profile. Thanks!

* * *

Dancing Away with my Heart

"I…I don't want to go, Tony!" Bruce fell back on his heels, hoping to send Tony's push to a grinding halt. They were just outside the redecorated auditorium. A song with deep bass had the door rumbling, shaking the metal door handle as if to invite them in. MARVEL University was strict about frat parties and alcohol, but would allow the students this dance. It was likely the only dance they'd get before the next semester started.

Headmaster Fury didn't take grades, drug tests, school accreditation, and academic standing lightly. Because they were a government secret, because MARVEL University sought to train future defenders, their leash for play was short. The fact that they also accepted students from other worlds – most notably Asgardian royalty – was also reason to keep the school out of the papers. Hope for a traditional rowdy college time was not lost, however. Associate Dean Coulson was known to let kids sneak by with something fun if given a good reason. Associate Dean Hill was not as generous.

The two Associate Deans could not be more different. Hill suggested against the party. Coulson eventually caved after enough girls begged him for a dance. "C'mon, man!" Tony slapped his back cheerily, "It'll be fun!"

"You and I have different conceptions of fun." assured Bruce, staving off nervous wheezing as Tony pushed him against the vibrating door. "Should've stayed in Mexico." groaned Bruce, face pressed to the door. Fury tracked him down, teasing him with the idea of an unbiased education. With an environment made of people like him, people who wouldn't fear what he'd become after the gamma bomb ruined his DNA.

"_She'll _be there." reminded Tony, drawing out the pronoun playfully and huskily. Tony was a well-known playboy, a chameleon that drifted between cliques effortlessly, the poster boy for a hot nerd, financially endowed, and Bruce thought he was Satan at times like this. Or maybe the annoying snake that started all the trouble in the Garden of Eden. He was a good friend, though, and Tony kept him sane in the lab areas by cancelling out the stupid people who shouldn't be allowed to touch any of the expensive equipment. Still, jabbing at him and bringing up his crush just to make him attend a dance was low.

Tony knew it, but didn't care. He thought Bruce and the young woman were a match made in heaven. She was attending a regular university until Fury picked her up about six months ago. From what Bruce and Tony could understand, she'd just come out of an intensive surgery meant to repair brain damage brought on by a car accident. The series of neural operations went fine, aided by then-state-of-the-art technology.

Fury was sent to investigate when she didn't die after a system malfunction. It was shortly revealed that the electricity overexcited her mind and left her with the ability to manipulate technology. She was integrated into the technology course; her previous major in dance and minor in English was forcibly abandoned. Her fast-track through the technology course caused Fury to move her into bigger and better things. Namely, being the source of power for the most active lab in the university – one occupied by Bruce Banner, Tony Stark, and occasionally drifting presences like Reed Richards and Hank McCoy.

Bruce had come to know her because of that. He couldn't NOT know the girl lighting up the lab. His inner scientist was fascinated by her ability. Every other part of him was either smitten or terrified. On the one hand, she was a woman and had a growing knowledge of science and technology. On the other hand, she was a GIRL, and actually _attractive _despite the vein-like scars around her left eye.

The Other Guy made it hard for him to talk to women. He mentioned The Other Guy to help her feel better about her eye, which people mocked. Bruce liked to think that he and Coriander had grown close because of their own personal demons. When people picked, they picked good-naturedly (unless they were just assholes, and those did exist even in the most prestigious of universities like MARVEL) but it was still painful. Aside from Stark, Coriander knew him like no other.

There were others who _knew_ him – Clint, Natasha, Thor, and his little brother Loki – but they didn't _understand_ him to the degree that Tony and Cori did. With that in mind, he knew a dance shouldn't be so terrifying. But it was. This was college; someone had likely snuck booze in. If not, Loki was ready to make mischief – as he always was – and conjure it.

That meant there was potential for disaster (aside from his stuttering and anxiety). It was tempting to go into the dance, to find her, but the fact that he couldn't dance froze him. Coriander was a dancer, and had been long before her pursuit of a degree in the subject. He would just be in the way. "I…I can't." Bruce mumbled weakly, sweaty palms braced against the door.

Sitting on his conscience, riled by the pounding music, was The Other Guy. He was not happy. Pouring through Bruce like heat, Hulk investigated the scene with enhanced senses. Bruce could smell sweat, mingling skin, several soft drink brands, and greasy pizza. His nose swam, decoding male students' scent.

Something in him steeled, an odd determinism voicelessly demanding that he go in there and stake out the area. They both knew Coriander was in there somewhere. It was his job as her lab overseer to make sure no one harassed her. At the very least, being a junior, being _older_, he owed it to her. Few people enjoyed his company like she did.

Before Bruce could push the door open and submerge himself in a true college moment, the door swung towards him and Tony. Looking agitated and frazzled, Coriander stumbled out. The lines beneath her left eye shone a luminescent green. "…rub me and treat me like an iPod my _ass_!" she hissed, rearranging tousled strands of her dark hair. "I'll treat you like a shoe rack and put my foot in _your _ass." Cori huffed.

Tony snickered. Coriander looked up, dropping pieces of her dark hair. She flushed. Tony and Bruce knew she could be opinionated, but Coriander rarely let herself go off in the presence of others. "Hey you," she nudged Bruce's foot with a jade green heel, "thought you weren't coming?"

Bruce didn't want to come. He'd made it clear he wasn't. Tony had other plans, though. Banner merely swallowed, sweeping his eyes over her willowy frame. The dress hugged her sweetly, giving Bruce little doubt as to what lay underneath the fabric.

Not that he didn't know; some of those tests were slightly invasive, but accurate and thorough like Fury requested. Fury made it clear in the school's mission statement: MARVEL University seeks to train all students in matters of life and death, for success and triumph, and will instill personal confidence by exposing the student body to all possible real-world situations (including but not limited to: chaos, survival sessions, profanity, and nudity). Bruce rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. "Yeah, well…I'm here!" offered Bruce lamely, cringing slightly at the nervous laugh that escaped.

"Glad to see you!" Coriander grinned, flashing that common crooked smile.

"I'm going to go get some punch." Tony excused himself.

"Don't bother Pepper!" warned Cori. "You'll have Natasha to answer to!"

"Meh, it's alright. Clint's my wingman. Hah, wingman!" Tony chortled at his own joke, leaning against the partially opened door.

"Could you go inside, please?" Bruce wondered, lips pressed thinly in a peeved manner. Tony dragged him here, and now he was lingering? He found who he'd come to see. Coriander grinned as Tony gave a mock salute and ducked inside. It was just him and Coriander now.

His heart pounded painfully behind his ribs. "Hey." said Bruce after licking his lips and swallowing. He felt underdressed compared to her. Tony barely managed to pull him from the lab; as a result, he wore a rumbled purple shirt with short sleeves and gray pants. Bruce was suddenly aware of every wrinkle in his shirt, the twisted collar around his neck, and the missing button he never found after taking the washing machine apart.

"Hey." Coriander couldn't help but laugh. It was cute that Bruce was still nervous around her. Sweaty palms and stuttering only accented his adorably shyness. "Wanna dance, you know, since you're here?"

"I…I can't. I don't know how."

"Just move." Coriander shrugged, putting a hand delicately on his shoulder. Bruce continued to shift his weight from foot to foot. For the time being, Coriander would take that as 'moving'. She knew nearly all of his nervous quirks.

"I don't…I-I'm not as good as you." lamented Bruce, trying to watch his feet and not stare at the slight peek of cleavage she boasted. Being taller had its advantages, apparently.

"You're doing fine." Cori whispered encouragingly, mindful of his condition and The Other Guy. Bruce shivered; her whisper left him feeling wrapped in cool silk. They swayed from side to side, Bruce holding her waist in a vice grip like his life depended on it. He couldn't believe this was happening! And, what's more, it was going _well_!

He let his eyes drift close, nose dipping to inhale her floral shampoo. This was nice. "I'm glad you came." Coriander smiled. "If I was left alone with those idiots I would've turned the speakers into scraps." she promised. Aside from Captain, Thor, Clint, and Loki – who didn't like her very much – there were few good men in the auditorium.

Seeing nice, respectable men like Bruce kept her quiet. Helped her unwind the tension and irritation she felt with being so easily connected to nearly every damn thing in the university. "I'm glad I came, too." admitted Bruce, chin coming to rest atop her head. Her fingers slipped behind the curve of his shoulder to the back of his neck, pulling him into her embrace. Few people on earth could hug Bruce Banner, and she was one of them.

"I'm glad Fury picked me up. Wouldn't have met you if he didn't."

"Mmhm. Me too." Bruce stuck to short replies. His mouth was barely working as it was.

"I'm glad he put me in the technology route."

"Me too."

"I want to kiss you." Coriander grinned impishly, catching on to his slight absentmindedness. She didn't blame him. Their gentle swaying, his breathing, the beat of his pulse, created a soft, sleepy environment.

"Me too. Wait…what?" something in Bruce snapped to attention. That wasn't normal small-talk. Was it true? Sometimes Cori was a sarcastic tease, but usually not with him. Coriander laughed, caressing his blush-stained cheek.

Bruce blushed harder.

"I want to kiss you." Coriander repeated, standing up on her tip-toes to move closer with each word. Few people wanted to do that. Bruce nervously, eagerly met her lips the second time. The sound of the opening door caused him to rip away. Too damn soon, and he'd probably smash the person responsible.

"Did it work?" Tony inquired, large grin threatening to split his cheeks in half.

"Yeah. Thanks for helping me." Coriander gave Tony an appreciative wink. Bruce snorted, face heating again. She rubbed her hands lightly over his chest to calm him. The flecks of green in his brown eyes shrank. It was fine as long as she kept being sweet to him.

That's all he could – and would – ever ask for.

"Go _away_, Tony!"

"I'm only checking on you! Fury trusts me to help you manage The Other Guy, you know."

"_Tony_! I know where you sleep!"

"It's right next to you, pal. Sorry, Squirt. Bruce had to try that one-time college experience." cackled Tony.

"TONY!"

"This college is _way _more interesting than my last one." laughed Coriander, pushing Bruce away from the door as she slipped a few fingers in his breast pocket to guide him around the corner. She began to drop light, shy kisses up the column of his neck.

"Me too." managed Bruce, not caring that he squawked.


	9. Quack, quack! Went The Heart

We Need to Quit Meeting like This

* * *

**AN: **Thanks to Drachegirl14, Midnight Chamber, and ThoughtlessRage for reviewing the last chapter. It was super sweet :D. This oneshot is also from my MARVEL Universe AU. I really like that idea, for whatever reason, but couldn't begin to imagine how I would write it. Should I write it as one big, all-inclusive thing with OCs and their respective pairings? Or write them as separate stories all related to MARVEL U?

I don't know. Plus I don't know if you guys, the readers, like ALL of the Avengers. On that note, please take my profile poll if you haven't already (Loki has been included as an option because he's the only male villain). It may help decide future story pairings (I'm considering making a Thor/OC, Loki/OC type of deal, and have a vague idea for a Hawkeye/OC). Amy and Drachegirl14, your ideas have been noted.

I'm not feeling the masquerade request so I don't think I'll be doing that one, sorry to say. This is to make up for that. And it was just something I _really _wanted to have happen between Bruce and Cori. I may update this again tomorrow because drabbles are easy to push out.

* * *

"Quack, quack!" Went The Heart

_WHAT AM I GOING TO DO? _Bruce had a terrible habit of swallowing thickly or biting his nails in his weaker form. Panic was not stress or rage, and therefore he was currently dealing with the disaster on his own. Hulk wasn't happy with him right now. The young scientist could almost _feel _Hulk turning away, sitting angrily at the back of his mind. If visitors could sway Coulson or Maria, or had a valid point as to why they should be allowed on campus, they were granted access for a day.

They walked onto the campus knowing absolute secrecy was demanded of them. Each rare visitor was even made to sign a contract of understanding that gave MARVEL University big-wigs like Fury, Coulson, and Maria permission to terminate them for an information leak. Bruce imagined such precautions would scare people off. It didn't work on everyone, however, because Betty paid him a visit. She arrived at the worst possible time, exclaiming her delight at his living state and crooning about how she could've helped him if he'd just _opened up_.

Bruce was steadily trying to ward her off, to untangle her embrace, when Coriander walked into the lab. Fate was ridiculously cruel and unfair to Bruce Banner. His mother was dead, his father was a bastard, he was a radiated freak, and now his overly inquisitive on-again, off-again girlfriend just dropped in out of the blue. The choice to leave Mexico was easier after discovering she'd run around on him. Again.

Did Bruce blame her? No. He wouldn't date a guy who could turn into a massive green freak, either. Though it hurt, he found life was better without Betty. Life was more complicated with her.

Now was the perfect example. It had been mere hours since Fury ushered Betty off campus for her safety, and Bruce couldn't get Coriander to talk to him. She was avoiding him insanely well. He was beginning to think Loki was masking her somehow. His veins were tight with despair and rage.

He could only imagine what it looked like when she walked in. They were just beginning to talk, and hadn't reached a level of friendliness to discuss his past. Bruce did regard her as a friend, though. She was intriguing with her bright green eyes and ability to manipulate technology. Even if they _were _friends Bruce probably wouldn't mention Betty.

It had nothing to do with lying. He just didn't see her as something important anymore. Tony could only give him scraps of information retrieved by Pepper. Coriander was miffed by the other woman, but not jealous as a lover would be. She was more or less hurt; Bruce knew that was because one of their talks focused on lamenting in a loneliness void of significant others.

Cori was trying to give him space. Keeping her distance as a friend should since she believed him to be involved. The idea couldn't be more wrong, and Bruce couldn't feel more frustrated. Today of all days, Betty had to drop in. This was singlehandedly the _worst _Valentine's Day Bruce had ever had.

He was running out of options, and out of time. Some of the girls – Liberty, Coriander, Pepper, and Natasha (through force) – were going out to celebrate the holiday. Coulson and Fury couldn't deny the celebration of a recognized holiday, and simply mandated no intense drinking occur without some kind of return system. Bruce _had _to rectify this before they left at noon. It was nearly eleven now.

Usually he found her in the library, the computer lab, his and Tony's lab, in the courtyard, or at the lake off to the left by the school garden and botany class. He'd checked the library and was told by the librarian that he'd just missed her. She'd checked out a copy of _Pyramus and Thisbe_, apparently, and was heading to the courtyard. In his panic he begged Steve's cooking-centered love interest, Liberty, to snatch him a bundle of wild flowers from the gardens where she collected ingredients and meet him at the courtyard. By the time he arrived, circumnavigating the crowds and trying to steady the nervous clenching rhythm around the flower stems, there was little left of his apology present.

Moving bodies generated winds that tore the flowers to pieces. His hurried gait was also to blame. The stems were nothing but twisted remains in his right fist. He stopped Pepper at the first trace of that red hair and freckled face, nearly spinning her around in effort to pester her for a few seconds. Coriander drifted to the lakeside bench area after body traffic became too inconvenient, she'd said.

_It's my last chance_, Bruce bit his lip. The cafeteria was selling all kinds of chocolate treats, candy, and love grams to feed money back into some of the clubs. Coriander _loved _junk food. This _had _to work! He turned on heel, elbowed people out of his way, and forked over two dollars for a bread-like sweet cake the size of his fist.

She was sitting with her back to him, likely unaware as she read. Bruce gulped, edging his way over to her. He didn't want to make any sudden moves in case she huffily stormed off. The fact that she wore a red tank top beneath a pink half-shirt gave him hope. Those were the color of Valentine's Day, so he still had a shot, right?

Wearing the colors of Valentine's Day meant she was waiting on someone to be kind to her. For someone to love her. Bruce would have to work his way up to the affection most women expected on Valentine's Day, but knew he could do it. For now he was sure she'd like to have a friendship type of love. It was always comforting to have a friend that close, and he could easily be hers.

Ducks waddled to and fro across the grass, used to being fed year round. Some slipped back into the water after realizing Coriander dispensed whatever food she had to share. Bruce saw few feathered animals without a partner, and the idea of _animals _not suffering on what could also be known as Perpetual Singles' Day was aggravating. The process of running her down just to _apologize _and _explain _was aggravating. _BANNER STUPID! BETTY STUPID! _Hulk scolded unhappily.

Cori was one of the few people who accepted Hulk as he was. One of their first conversations had been about personal abnormalities. She connected and empathized with Hulk, with his condition, because her ability put her in the same category: freak. That camaraderie weighed on Bruce's conscience until he could do nothing else but repair what had happened. His nervous fingers broke apart the bread treat to distract the ducks collecting at his feet.

Their delighted quacking caught her attention. For a second he stared into her green eyes, not caring that his glasses hung at the tip of his nose. She regarded him for a few cool milliseconds, hiding most of the hurt, and turned back to her book. Bruce felt his stomach flop. That look pierced him, told him any tactics he chose had little chance of success.

No one wanted to be alone on Valentine's Day. He didn't, not after knowing her. Bruce felt something in him snap. Hulk was angry at the ducks for getting in the way, and angry at them stealing the treat meant for Coriander. The belligerent roar rang in the air, tearing Coriander from her book.

A handful of thoroughly smashed cake crumbs rained from Hulk's large hand. Most ducks scuttled away, but the younger ones eagerly waddled up to feast. They were too young to know his danger. Hulk snorted at the mess, frowning because he knew Bruce didn't want the day to go like this. But…this could work.

Cori liked to sit here and read. She often fed the ducks because they didn't discriminate like people. So, therefore, she had to like the ducks, right? The ducks should make her happy. Hulk stooped carefully, aware of the little yellow fluff's fragility.

He rolled soil and grass from his big fingers, trapping a few pieces of sweet cake for the little creature. Combined with the warmth of his hand, the tiny duck with beady eyes didn't want to leave. His gigantic feet left imprints in the grass and shook the earth as he hesitantly approached her. Cori couldn't be mad at Hulk, not when he hadn't done anything to her. She couldn't, anyways, because he was so primal.

Hulk was suffering enough, she thought. Cori could see it in the way he frowned and shifted nervously. The Other Guy knew she and Bruce hit a snag. "Bruce sorry." he bent down, offering the eating duck as a living olive branch of sorts.

"Bruce not get chance to explain in talks. Betty not Bruce's girlfriend. Betty annoying…make Hulk mad. Betty hurt Bruce's heart. Not Bruce's valentine." explained Hulk.

"Are you sure?" Coriander didn't want to ask Hulk questions. He and Bruce stated many times that they were separate from one another. It felt wrong to ask one questions about the other. Hulk nodded.

"Bruce want Cori for valentine, but Bruce stupid. Bad with words. All Bruce's presents get ruined. Hulk want Bruce and Cori be fixed…be friends…so Hulk get Cori present." she laughed, appreciating his honesty and thought process. It was cute, the way he treated the duck like a present. He clearly had intelligence of his own, but she couldn't help thinking his child-like reasoning was adorable. "Present." repeated Hulk, holding out his large hands to let her watch the stuffed duckling primp himself in the warmth of his fleshy green nest.

"You can't give me a duck! He's alive, and I don't think Fury would let me keep it in the dorm. Besides, the duck has a family!"

"But…Cori like duck. And Valentine's Day mean boys and girls give presents. Mostly girls get presents from what Hulk and Bruce see. This Hulk and Banner's present to Cori."

"He can be our present." agreed Cori. "We'll visit him and feed him." she rubbed his large thumb gently. Hulk sat carefully beside her as she shifted sit on the ground. The Other Guy gave a bright, shy smile.

"Happy Valentine's Day." Hulk mumbled, face pointed at the ground. Warm jets of air rushed over the duck, causing him to shiver in delight. He gave a soft _quack_!

"Happy Valentine's Day, big guy." grinned Coriander, kissing the tip of his closest finger.


	10. Drama Rama Online

We Need to Quit Meeting like This

* * *

**AN: **Thanks to Maymayliu, the guest who reviewed, Drachegirl14, and Miko Hayashi for reviewing the last chapter!

To Maymayliu: I'm glad you like the college idea! I'm thinking more and more of turning it into a story, but have no title! It's distressing, and I don't know how many people would read it since it'd be Thor/OC, Loki/OC, Bruce/OC, Steve/OC, and Tony/Pepper. People don't really like OCs xD. I would write a small continuation of what happened, but that would mess up the idea of what this story is about (them meeting for the first time, hence why you see it over and over again) BUT that scene may be included in this unnamed future-work where they're all in college!

To the Guest: your idea has been noted!

To Drachegirl14: Good to hear!

To Miko: Thank you!

I have a few tentative names for the MARVEL U idea. It will be all-inclusive, I think, meaning all the above mentioned couples (hints of Hawkeye/OC, but mostly Hawkeye/Natasha) will be written about. Some couples may be expounded on in a separate story (such as the Hawkeye/OC and Loki/OC). Anyhoo, the titles include: _Of Mischief, Mortals, and Midgard_, _Avengers: The Academic Years, The Days of MARVEL U_, _Avengers Initiative: Education and Social Survival_, and _Heroism 101_.

State your favorite title choice in the review! Gersemi and Lyra are going to be lightly mentioned in this chapter. They are characters-in-development for Thor and Loki respectively.

This idea is credited to Drachegirl14.

To my knowledge the website _Drama-Rama _doesn't actually exist. Shaquille O'Neal is briefly mentioned. This is just for a comparative reason and should not be taken seriously because I own none of this. Winging Bruce's meet-up attire. Not proof-read (computer's dying).

* * *

Drama-Rama Online

"Fury said you can't shut yourself off from humanity, so this is the only safe solution I could come up with." Tony shoved Bruce at the computer. Bruce frowned, muttering under his breath. He didn't think it was smart to walk among the people while they were still skittish and cleaning up. Manhattan praised him _and _the other Avengers, but they all kept their distance. That was more painful than fighting the Chitauri, Bruce thought.

He expected it, though. Asked for solitariness, even. That didn't mean it was painless, however. Fury thought he needed gradual reintroduction into society after being in India for so long. The Other Guy may be needed for future missions, and Bruce might need to fill certain roles as an infiltration requirement.

Tony suggested working his way up to face-to-face chatting. His starting point would be the internet. Once he was left alone Bruce typed in 'The Avengers'. Thousands of results popped up almost instantly, startling the scientist because Manhattan's cleanup and the invasion was only a week old. The search engine legend stated that most searched or viewed entries were at the top.

Thinking it would be best for interacting, Bruce clicked on the top link. He was taken to a website that was part blog and part picture-filled articles colored in dark purple, blue, gray, and turquoise. There were several navigation tabs at the top of the screen: Home, News, Blogs, Videos, and Chat. Before Bruce could click at random the main page faded to display more 'highest-rated' content. "The Avengers – The Hulk / Bruce Banner" by Cori & Co. read Bruce.

He clicked on the video.

A woman with long, dark hair popped up after he pressed play. She had green eyes that sparkled with light from the computer. Her skin was pale, made flawless and luminescent by the electronic neon glow. "Hey guys! This is Cori, putting up another installment of my opinion of the Avengers. These became really popular, apparently, so I'm tying up the loose ends."

_"Some of you left me comments asking how it started…well…I basically got on my soapbox."_ she laughed. _"People were up in arms about the aliens, and then turned on this team of…of freakin' awesome _superheroes_ because they're nuts!"_ the girl exclaimed, partially admonishing and partially flabbergasted. Bruce grinned, finding her candid and opinionated. It was an interesting mix. _"Gersemi and Lyra aren't with me today, as you can tell, but that's alright because _I'm_ the one most pissed off about the treatment of the Hulk."_

He felt his eyebrows rise into his hair. She was…mad? Cori didn't _like _how people treated The Other Guy? That was a first for people who didn't interact with him like Tony and the others had. Hope caused Bruce's heart to flutter as his stomach twisted in anticipation.

What things would she say about him? How could she _possibly _find anything good _to _say about him? Bruce awaited her words eagerly. He'd been waiting eons for someone to see him as something other than a monster. It would relax him indefinitely to know someone _other _than Tony and his appointed teammates liked him.

_"It's a good thing Drama-Rama accepts rants because this one is _loaded_ guys! First off: why the hell is he feared? Sure he's big and tall, but so is Shaquille O'Neal and we don't run away from him! Just blew you're mind, didn't I? Feel stupid for being selective and judgmental yet?"_

A small hum of amusement left Bruce's throat. The Other Guy wasn't typically compared with celebrities. He was expecting something of the Jolly Green Giant variety. Bruce was appreciative for her strategic defense; it was a rant, but it was well thought out. She was making the Hulk relatable and trying to create a sense of humanity underneath the rage and destruction.

_"Also, why am I still hearing griping about the repaving? Everyone's like 'Oh it's the Hulk's fault because he has big feet!'. Um…no. There were _flying spaceships _crashing to the ground. In case you don't know, flying spaceships CAN damage pavement. I'm pretty sure that giant metal centipede had something to do with it, too._

_"And Stark. Or did people conveniently forget that he can shoot lasers? Yeah, it's not just the Hulk's fault, folks. Women all over the world should be loving those feet! Imagine how many roaches he could kill in one stomp! _

_"Great for if you have an infestation!"_

Oh yes. Women all over the world would love Hulk for his ability to smash roaches. That made his date-ability shoot through the roof. He'd give her an _A _for effort.

_"Dude, I mean, _come on_! If anything, give the guy a second look because he saved Tony Stark. You guys like Tony Stark, right? Well…without Hulk he'd be red and gold metal shavings after that fall." _she crossed her arms under her chest, giving the viewers time to think.

_"And – I'm going to cheat here, guilt by thinking of a child – think of all the joy Hulk brings to little kids. Mostly little boys, probably. I don't see a lot of girls who like to run around, make a mess, and destroy things on a daily basis. Little kids _adore _a big guy running around smashing things for _good_! Why can't you guys?" _Coriander clucked her tongue, shaking her head.

_"Let's review before I move on to the Bruce Banner portion." _sighed Coriander. Bulleted points floated up from the bottom of the screen.

- Big and tall like (few) CELEBRITIES people have no problem with.

- Isn't totally to blame for Manhattan destruction.

- Feet could smash tons of roaches. Yes, this is a valid point women can appreciate.

- Saved Tony Stark / Iron Man.

- Kids like a superhero that smashes things as his main ability.

_"Okay, time for Bruce Banner's part. Don't really know the guy, but I've read some things. This is going to be _super quick _because I've got lunch plans. Getting back on track." _Coriander shook her head. Bruce grinned; he got absentminded like that, too.

He blushed a little, also. Few people got distracted because of _him_. _"He's gone to India and worked for free. Apparently he's a really good doctor. One of Carmen's family friends sent me that info after finding out I'd be doing a video on Dr. Banner._

_"She went out of her way, WALKED into a more developed area of India, just to find a computer and leave me a comment. THAT is dedication, folks. I don't think she would've done that if Dr. Banner hadn't done some amazing things for her village. Hate yourselves for fearing an altruistic doctor yet?"_

_"If not, here's something else: a man named Rick Jones did an interview while Avenger Mania exploded across the globe. Dr. Banner saved him from gamma radiation some…what…twenty years ago? I didn't realize it was so easy to hate a doctor and a hero! The media makes it look _so easy_! Gosh!_" she gave a huff, pretending to look shocked and disgusted.

Bruce chuckled again. She certainly had a way about her. Cori was brutally honest but compassionate. It was a rare combination. He absently rolled the mouse over to the video, observing the red line inching towards the right.

Her latest Avengers soapbox moment was nearly over. Five minutes wasn't terribly long or inconvenient to spend watching this. It actually made Bruce feel…better.

_"I have to run guys. No time for a wrap up. Lunch awaits! But yeah…that's my opinion on the Hulk and Bruce Banner. Hate it or hug it, but I'm still pro-Hulk!" _she waved a little neon green flag momentarily. It was like her middle finger to the naysayers, Bruce assumed. The video ended, two options popping up: hate or hug.

_Must be the rating system_, Bruce deduced. He was pleased to find that the rant had more 'hugs' than 'hates'. After picking 'hug' another series of options became available: leave a comment, refer to a friend, or message user. Bruce chose 'message user'. Leaving a comment may go unnoticed in the ones being left behind with suggestions on the next video.

Some were even suggestion a Loki opinion video, much to his horror, because Cori's acquaintance, Lyra, had been there when Loki landed in Stuttgart. Bruce pushed all of that from his mind as the blank message field waited patiently for his comment.

_It's nice to see a Hulk supporter. _he typed, sending the message. Mentioning that he _was _Hulk may earn him a biased reply. If Fury wanted him to associate with people, he'd like to start with someone who didn't already know his secret. Or know that they were talking directly to him, anyways. The anonymity of the internet was comforting in its own weird way.

To his surprise, she replied within five minutes. _The little megaphone icon beside her name must mean she's online, _Bruce determined. He'd seen it while watching the video, but thought nothing of it. It was the symbol of _Drama-Rama_, so it was ignored.

_Right? There's so few. You think any sensible person would empathize with the whole "Dr. Jekyll, Mr. Hyde" thing he has going on. People are just making him out to be a monster when he really isn't one, I think._

He found it ironic that she referenced Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. Bruce had used that analogy more than once. It was the bittersweet poetic theme of his life. She was a similar mind, and she _supported _him. His heart ached with gratitude.

_Me too_, Bruce replied. He licked his lips. There had to be a way to personalize this chat. It was probably because of her rant and the support she offered, but Bruce was craving her words. How often did he have the chance to speak with someone like her?

His mind yearned for the nice things few people said about him.

_But_, continued Bruce, _what makes you think he's not a monster?_

_Judging by your first comment, _she wrote, _you've seen the video. I didn't have the chance to include that he has the anatomy of a human being. How can people hate something so similar to them? He's not an alien! Hulk has eyes, a nose, mouth, hair (a lot of it!), fingers, and toes!_

_He's just like us!_

No one had ever used Hulk's anatomy as a defense. It was typically used as the main reason for people to hunt him. Her blunt honesty and observation made Bruce smile. _I might actually have something to thank Fury for if this all goes well_, mused Bruce.

_But what about his rage?_ Bruce typed. How she answered this was critical. It would determine whether or not he got up and walked away or if he stayed.

_Who cares about his rage? We ALL get angry. He's just louder with his rage. And taller. And heavier, so when he's pissed and he stomps because he stubbed his toe – or SOMETHING – more people know it._

_I wish I had that skill. People would actually leave me alone when I'm pissed instead of asking what's wrong. Hulk has a pretty smart system going. He's not all bad._

It was impossible to laugh quietly at that. The idea of turning into Hulk because he stubbed his toe was ridiculous. She meant well, though.

_He's not_, agreed Bruce.

* * *

Bruce had unintentionally formed a habit. For the past three months he'd been communicating with Cori through _Drama-Rama_, connecting with this girl through conversations that started – but didn't stop – with The Other Guy. While working in the lab with Tony and the holo-computers he'd keep a window open to chat. She'd traded enough in-site messages with him to deem him worthy of her chat list. It was slightly more private and wonderfully encouraging.

She talked with him on a daily basis. Constantly typed things like: _finally, you're here! _or _Noon on the dot! Man you're punctual! Don't you ever do anything ELSE on lunch breaks? (just kidding). _It made him feel like they had another thing in common. He was equally excited to see her online and ready to talk. Cori was a nice change from nosy Tony and the others.

Things in Stark Tower were still a bit odd. It came with the whole 'adjusting with sudden new roommates' situation. Tony just grinned when he found Bruce surfing the site. He knew Coriander personally, and knew Bruce would find her video log in the search engine. Pulling it up and making Bruce watch it occurred to him, but he figured it would mean more if Bruce found it by himself.

The theory was steadily being proven. Bruce grinned more, was a little more relaxed with conversations, and lingered longer than normal. Proximity was becoming less and less of an issue for him. Tony was proud. "What'cha doing there, Brucie?"

"Mmm? Nothing. Reviewing those bolt comparisons and simulation runs you wanted me to see."

Bruce was also becoming more secretive, Tony noted. Embarrassed, like some high school kid with a crush. He lightly and casually rearranged the windows prior to Tony fully looking up from the glove needing repair. The Chitauri had done a number on his suit, as had the flight into the portal, but Tony wasn't totally consumed. His focus and creativity worked best when he mind wandered.

The holo-computer under Bruce's control was the perfect target. Bruce, his fellow brother in science, probably thought he could outfox Tony and hide the window with some program or push it to the back. That was not the case. JARVIS could easily retrieve it once Bruce left.

"Are you _sure_?" Tony teased.

"Yes." grumbled Bruce. His watch beeped. "I'm going to get lunch."

"It's one in the afternoon!" pointed out Tony.

"A _late _lunch. I'll be back by two...probably."

"_You're _going _out _for lunch?" Tony nearly dropped the miniature welding iron. It was all for show, of course. He couldn't be happier for Bruce. Dr. Banner frowned deeply, pushing his glassed up on his nose while giving Tony a long, flat look.

"Yes, Tony, I am. I need to get out of the house. Aside from you and your nosiness, Clint and Natasha are making it awkward." admitted Bruce.

"Yeah." Tony nodded understandingly. "I mean, you could cut the sexual tension with a knife! It's like…why _not _do it already? Unless Clint's scared she'll kill him with some of those sick assassin bendy moves. That's understandable."

"This is exactly why I'm leaving." muttered Bruce with a shake of his head. He shut down all of the holo-computers windows by dropping his raised left hand into his lowered right one. Tony waited five minutes after Bruce left to reopen the programs.

_**Cori:**__ Um…what?_

_**Mr. Green: **__I'm the Hulk. Bruce Banner. Robert Bruce Banner, actually._

_**Cori: **__You're serious?_

_**Mr. Green: **__Yes. I don't believe in lying to you after we've spoken for this long. Meet me at the café on fourth and Maine and see for yourself. How does one fifteen sound? And…please…don't bring anyone else._

_I'm not completely comfortable with crowds yet. I'll be wearing a grey jacket, white undershirt, blue jeans, gray loafers, and a gray fedora. _

_**Cori: **__You…I…my brain hurts. For serious?! That…that's doable. I WILL be bringing a can of mace, just so you know. And a taser. It's Manhattan…have to be safe._

_**Mr. Green: **__Smart girl. I'd expect nothing less. See you soon._

_**Mr. Green has left the chat**_

* * *

"Mr. Green?" Coriander nervously slid into the booth, one hand on her purse. He was the only man wearing so much gray in the café. His dark, curly hair seemed to be raising mutiny against the hat. It left pieces of curled hair poking out in objection. "You really _are _Bruce Banner." Cori grinned widely, identifying him by the glasses and brown eyes Rick Jones described.

He smiled softly. "You really are Coriander." Bruce teased. Mistaking her for anyone else was impossible after watching the rest of the rants on her shared channel. Tony actually made it a group activity. They had fun laughing at her blunt opinions and absent gestures.

Her friends were equally as hilarious, though some were more outspoken than others. Bruce refused to think of them now, though. The one he'd wanted to talk to was in front of him. That was all that mattered. He cleared his throat, breaking the staring contest.

"I'd like to introduce myself: Bruce Banner." Bruce offered his hand. She smiled, sliding out her own hand to meet his. Her fingers were long and gently skirted the rough texture of his hand. He shivered.

"Coriander Henson."


	11. Attraction is Poisonous

We Need to Quit Meeting like This

* * *

**AN: **Hey guys, sorry for the disappearance! Been working on my Captain America story. Thanks to Maymayliu, ThoughtlessRage, Drachegirl14, and Midnight Chamber for reviewing. It was super sweet. I'm officially out of ideas (unless something occurs to me) so please feel free to keep suggesting stuff because, if not, this thing dies xD.

As for the huge story where all the couples are together, I think I'm going with _Heroism 101_. I don't know when I'll have time to make that story, though, because college is super sucking right now. I'm busy most of the week, and on the weekend I'm taming a sea of homework (and I have to finish _The Pursuit of Liberty_, which came first).

This idea is credited to amy.

I'm making up the invading lizard people in this chapter. For some reason evil lizards just popped into my head. I think it's from that _Jurassic Park _stuff I watched last night. Oh well…

ThoughtlessRage's doctor/patient idea is next. Might be up tonight before I go to class for six hours xD.

* * *

Attraction is Poisonous

Concrete dust hung thickly in the air, creating a haze dense enough to block most of the sun. A hint of sunshine was nice after the disaster that occurred. Sunshine danced elusively on the rubble, overturned cars, and brave pedestrians wandering cautiously out into the silence. Metal, glass, and concrete littered the once-whole street. Evidence of the bipedal lizard race was scarce – one or two long, sharp spikes remained buried in the road.

They'd come in droves, sporting golden armor with hints of red and white that contrasted glaringly on asparagus green skin. The race couldn't – or wouldn't, no one knew – speak. They relied on a series of hisses and growls shaped by slimy forked tongues. Thin, hard green spikes as solid as marble quivered and rose along their backs, discouraging opposition. It was a show of dominance, an invitation to challenge them as they stalked along the streets.

Their yellow eyes pinpointed scrambling pedestrians, people of different ethnicities or ages, and made them a target. Residents who couldn't make it into coffee shops or packed diners were taken away. The ones who fought at close range were met with a dark liquid being spat into their faces. Others who had a chance of finding safety, who could use distance to their advantage, learned those fat, quill-like spikes could detach from the alien bodies. Shaped like an extinct saber-toothed cat's claw, those quills were perfect for throwing or stabbing once separated from the body.

Bruce was given the task of finding and collecting said spikes. Fury allowed it after confirming Manhattan was, once more, alien free. Thor and Tony had done a good job of containing and besting the monsters, Bruce thought. The Other Guy had been out briefly, but ended up forcibly withdrawing. Those quills secreted a dark, paralytic substance that calmed the body.

He'd reverted mid-battle, much to his surprise and disappointment. It wasn't long after his reverse transformation that Thor and the others saved Manhattan. The Other Guy had done his share of damage, but likely the least amount by all previous recollections. He was amazed by that realization, and stood in a halo of broken concrete to gaze upon the city. Despite the destruction and chaos, Bruce was calm.

Happy that he didn't cause most of this. His search for more quills was temporarily suspended. The sky was gorgeous when the dust thinned and the sun shined. Manhattan was blissfully quiet, and Bruce was at ease. Was it all beautiful because Earth had been saved, or because he'd been drugged by an alien substance?

Bruce didn't know, and honestly didn't care. The liquid was quickly evaporating in his system; he could feel the welcome daze wearing off. He was coming into his usual state of awareness; Bruce catalogued scratch marks where the lizards tried to climb buildings in search of humans. Trios of stripes were left behind from where their clawed, semi-webbed feet dug into the roofs and windowsills. Impressions of their long, sinewy tails and forms remained from where they had been flung, kicked, hammered, or blasted by Tony and Thor.

"Crazy, in'nit?" drawled a soft voice sleepily. Bruce squinted, unable to see clearly without the aid of his glasses, and jumped over a ramp-like piece of concrete to follow the voice. He was led to an alleyway; a young woman sat at the mouth of it, cleverly hiding between the space of a rolling dumpster and the wall. She'd fully removed herself from the space and was using the dumpster to support her weight when he approached. Her left ankle was horribly swollen, and stained purple from the multiple quills lodged in her leg.

Bruce quickly eased her into a sitting position, medical instincts taking over. Quills of varying length were buried into either side of her ankle. "Got grabbed by a tail." she slurred, giggling slightly, "Tony burnt the tail off, but couldn't get the quills in a fly-by."

"I need to pull these out, alright? I'm _not _going to hurt you, though the removal might hurt. We need to get these out before your body soaks up too much of the toxin." he explained, tentatively gripping the longest spike to the right of her ankle. She winced, kicked lightly, and drew into herself. "I…I'm sorry." Bruce apologized.

"It's the anticipation, really. I think this stuff has made me loopy. I wonder if this is what weed makes you feel like?" Coriander gazed contemplatively up at the sky, lost in the slow swirl of contentment and sleepiness brewing within her. Life was good; even better now that the aliens had left and Manhattan could recover. Bruce refrained from laughing – it was bad to laugh at wounded patients – and took advantage of her absentmindedness without remorse. Until she kicked him in the face. He tasted blood on his teeth almost instantly, and was merely thankful The Other Guy's genetics left him incapable of getting that broken nose he surely would've had.

He pulled out two of the six quills, though. It wasn't a total loss. And she had a pretty damn good kick. Bruce groaned, pressing his lips to his bare forearm for a second or two. The blood was swallowed before he extracted another quill.

This time, he was ready. Her foot fell into his hand, compliments of all the preparatory defense training in Brazil and Mexico. She blinked, foggy brain stunned. It was wrong – _so_ wrong – but Bruce couldn't help but see the dazed woman as a sleeping beauty type. Unlike the classic Sleeping Beauty, her hair was dark, and perfectly imperfect like a case of bedhead.

Her eyes were half lidded due to the alien toxin, dark lashes fluttering up and down over green orbs. She was pale, smeared with dirt, and glowed patchily in the playing sun. Pale pink lips hung open just enough to tease, drawing in deep, slow breaths. Bruce swallowed, focusing on her lips so he could better hear her breathing. It was his job as an Avenger – no, a doctor, he corrected himself – to make sure she stayed alive.

As it was now, she may drift peacefully into death if the toxin wasn't taken care of. He hurriedly stole the remaining three quills. She snapped from her daze with a yelp. "I'll beat you like the Hulk! All big and…green…stomp…smash…_grr_! That guy's so cool…" her hissed turned into a delayed mumble, but she clapped him on the ear all the same. Bruce remained largely unfazed, letting his twitching lips turn up in the ghost of a smile as he began to rhythmically squeeze her leg.

The paralytic liquid dribbled out, but not at a rate Bruce was happy with. Knowing the tactic worked with snakebites, Bruce sealed his mouth to the closest wound and began to suck. The girl giggled, kicking her leg desperately as a means to free herself. He heard something about 'it tickles!' as he continued systematically spitting the dark mess onto the concrete. His teeth were numb, and he could feel the inside of his cheeks following suit, but The Other Guy kept the toxin from invading any farther as Bruce treated every quill wound.

"Really Banner, in an alley?" Bruce froze. _Of course _Tony would catch him like this. He spat the last – or what he hoped was the last – of the dark liquid on the ground. Banner glared at Tony over his shoulder. The billionaire grinned unashamedly, even daring to toss him a wink.

_TONY FRIEND, BUT TONY NOT FUNNY! GIRL HURT! BANNER ONLY TAKING CARE! TONY NOT MAKE FUN OF BANNER! NOT FUNNY!_

"Tony—" began Bruce threateningly, but calmly.

"Relax, Banner. I'm just kidding. Need air support?"

"No." Bruce carefully roped his arms around the girl, picking her up. She wouldn't be able to walk on such a swollen ankle. "I got it."

"Banner gonna get that." Tony started making obnoxious noises with his mouth, twirling just out of Bruce's reach as he whipped around. Bruce clenched his teeth together. "He's got—_no_, Thor. He's…never mind." Stark tried to wave Thor away from the scene, to tell him that it was all under control, but the blonde god interpreted the waving as a summoning. He landed on the overlooking structure in a rush of air, hammer coming to rest at his side. A crackling, crumbling sound met Bruce's ear.

The change was reflexive and almost instantaneous. A green giant cradled the wounded civilian. Thor started to apologize, babbling something about Midgardian structures versus Asgardian weight, but Hulk would hear none of it. He grabbed the god by his cape and flung him. Tony received a chunk of concrete to the chest for his teasing and inappropriate timing.

He looked down to the tiny thing in his hands, partly apologetic and partly analytical. Was she still alright? She flashed Hulk a bright, wide smile that made him tingle from head to toe. It was hard for him to remember the last time someone smiled at him like that. "Okay?" he wondered, bringing his hands up to his eyes.

She didn't seem to have an issue just lounging in his large hands. The girl seemed rather peaceful, like she was a sunning cat. "Yeah. You are so cool. You were all smash and change and power and _grr_!" she laughed, giving him that same drawl she gave Banner. "And you're warm." she complimented.

"What name?" Hulk murmured curiously. He wanted to know who this grateful person was. It was always nice to meet someone that approved of him. _Him_, not Banner. But, if anyone asked, Banner needed her name for medical care.

"Cori."

"Cori's poison all gone." Hulk told her. "Need get checked by doctor. Acting funny. Not safe to be alone. Need help."

"Actually, I just need a nap." she yawned. "Here, just fold some fingers like this…" Cori reached up to grab his pointer finger and folded it over her torso like a fleshy blanket. Hulk cautiously copied the movement, curling two more fingers around her. She was mostly tucked into his fingers, using his hand as a pillow of sorts. His fingers were the blanket.

"There. Awesome. Just like a burrito. Mmm…burritos. I really want Mexican food now." Hulk heard her say before she draped an arm over her face. Within seconds Coriander was out cold, snoring. He walked back – as quietly as possible – to Stark Tower where medical care was closest.

Poison was a terrible thing. It killed people, sometimes inconspicuously. Poisons were mostly designed to get rid of rodents and bugs. Few good things came from people being exposed to poisons. She was an exception.


	12. Cooling Down in India

We Need to Quit Meeting like This

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**AN: **Thanks to TyroAkira, amy, kiwi8fruit, Maymayliu, and Drachegirl14 for reviewing the last chapter.

Um…Drache, you're going to have to explain that request a little better. I don't understand it.

This idea is credited to ThoughtlessRage (with my spin, of course). Set early on in _The Avengers_. It wasn't spell-checked. My computer is dying.

Oh, by the way, I have three new prompts! They hit me and I was just like, '_my god _how could I not have thought of this?‼' They will be up shortly after this one (within a day or two, maybe?).

* * *

Cooling Down in India

"I can't _believe _this!" Pepper scowled. She smiled apologetically at the woman tempting her with jewelry, pulling Coriander by the elbow. The green-eyed girl broke her fascinated gaze and stumbled after Pepper.

"What's going on?" Coriander was confused, but not overly so. Tony invited her on his business trip so Pepper wouldn't be alone. Cori was beyond excited for a chance to visit India. How many times in her life would she get to do _that_? Numerous shots were well worth the ability to browse an Indian market crammed with local treasures.

She was enthralled by the colorful culture. Bottled henna of all hues called to her, begging to be bought. Silky scarves in a variety of patterns hung teasingly from the stall she'd inspected earlier. Tony's advice – and the multiple pamphlets he made her read while on the plane – told her to dress carefully and coolly for India's heat. The scarf she'd purchased was wrapped about her head to diminish the heat.

"The businessman refuses to start without me." huffed Pepper, running painted nails absently over golden trim in a homemade rug.

"Um…why? Didn't you give Tony all the folders?"

"Of _course_." Pepper rolled her eyes, refusing to register Coriander even asked such a question. "It's the one that likes me, though. The one who tried to force me into marrying him last year?" Coriander remembered that very well. Tony was livid, Pepper panicked, and that business nearly missed out on a much-needed technology upgrade. Pepper represented Tony at the exclusive meeting while said billionaire listened by phone, and a few rounds of business turned into uncomfortable, one-sided flirting. The man tried to bend Pepper to his will, attempting to use the business deal as leverage.

He didn't count on Pepper being a stubborn woman, and didn't count on Tony Stark caring about his secretary. Word of his womanizing ways reached India, giving the businessman the impression that she was just another one. One he may not miss. That was not the case.

"Tony's waiting on me. This is the entrance of the market. I want you to remember this spot. I know how you get when your mind wanders." Pepper grinned slightly, gesturing to the area around them. "Keep going in this direction, count fifteen buildings, and go to your _right _to find our temporary house."

"I know, Pepper. I was actually paying attention."

"I _know _you know – don't take that tone with me! – but I don't want you to get confused. _I _was dazed by the colors and people when I first came here." she explained.

"I'll be fine. I've got the dictionary _and _the rupees on me."

"Are you _sure_?"

"I'm sure."

"Are you really—"

"Pepper…go. Tony's still waiting." Coriander pointed out. Pepper resisted the urge to bite her nails, finally making her feet move towards the transportation waiting just feet away. The businessman sent it, which disturbed her. She climbed in only out of necessity. Knowing Tony would be there, too, made her feel better.

Coriander started towards the market again. The volume of bodies was startling, but she was beginning to figure out a way to squeeze by. Natives of India were dressed similarly in light clothing, or traditional wear. Fabrics of all colors brushed her body, making her especially conscious of the rupees tucked into her belt-like pouch. One hand stayed over her left pocket while she walked up and down the market, eyeing the items at every stall.

She was free to linger, feel, prod, wear or sample (in the case of dried spices) as long as she liked. Coriander easily lost track of time as she tried to find souvenirs for her mother, father, nieces, nephew, and sisters.

* * *

Bruce slipped fluidly into the market crowd, hoping to beat _someone _to the spice stall. He imagined the spices would help his medicine taste better. A few of the _awake _patients complained of it being too bitter. The others, well, he was hoping they'd come to because of the familiar scents. Spices were strictly 'first come, first serve', as was everything in the market.

He tensed, flinching at the _very _American speaker standing one stall away. The spice stand and Indian cuisine books were sold side by side for convenience. Should he skip the spices? Those patients would take his medicine – regardless of the taste – if they wanted to get better. It was human nature to fight, to survive, no matter what the obstacle or cost.

And that same instinct was making him freeze now. Those spices could be easily abandoned if it meant he could escape once more. What if that woman recognized him as the…the _thing _that broke Harlem? He couldn't take that chance.

"Look…I _know _I'm saying this right. I want _this_ book for my mom." she said.

"Yes, I understand." the owner smiled. He continued on in his native tongue, obviously losing her, "I want to get rid of _this _book. Help me out. I'll give you both of them. No one wants this one." Bruce half-turned to see her purse pink lips in slight frustration. Coriander was trying to be nice, as this was not her home, but refused to take the book he offered. It was the _wrong one_. She dabbed at her moist cheeks with part of the scarf.

This man was giving her a headache. She could be grateful for the heat lightening, at least. Somehow – she wasn't _sure _how – her skin was cooling. All of the sunblock and light colors must finally be working in her favor. Or the time of day.

"You know what? Fine. I'll take the books." grumbled Coriander, releasing her death grip on her rupees. Pepper made sure to review the different equivalents with her before they even boarded the plane. The translations were easy to remember since the bills had different colors. Bruce watched her stumble slightly, leaning forward to better distinguish the colors. He frowned.

"Are you alright?" he tapped her shoulder gently. Coriander issued a stifled moan.

"I…I'm fine. Stomach cramps." she mumbled. Bruce tilted her chin up, looking for awareness in her grassy eyes. Her skin was cold and clammy against his finger. Their staring contest broke when her eyes rolled into the back of her head.

"Heat stroke." Bruce mumbled, recognizing the signs. The shopkeeper gazed curiously at them. "If anyone comes to look for her, send them to me, okay?" he instructed. Time was of the essence when dealing with a heat stroke victim. Because he was known as a healer in the community– albeit, an elusive one – people listened to him.

He scooped her up, weaving through the crowd. It went against his desire to keep people in close quarters, but she needed help. Bruce didn't turn away sick residents, and he definitely wouldn't turn away an American. The doctor cursed at his insistency on finding isolated housing. Realizing that he'd have to walk a bit longer, Bruce stopped to unwind some of his clothing and drape it over her supine form.

That would decrease the heat a bit. It would prepare her body for complete immersion into shade. The last thing Bruce wanted to do was shock her body and its natural processes. Banner deposited her into the village version of a bed some ten minutes later. Sealed bottles of water he personally cleaned and boiled were poking out from his dirt floor. Bruce liked using the earth to his advantage, as it was the base of the house, and found that burying his jars a few inches could keep the water cool.

It was cleaned thoroughly prior to being opened. Bruce flicked makeshift medical equipment aside impatiently, knocked a pen and notes to the floor in search of something to apply the water with. His teeth tore mercilessly through a clean scarf. One hand dabbed at her flesh with the cloth, the other supporting her neck as he eased the scarf off. He'd focus on the pulse points, first.

Bruce traced her neck, bundling her thick, dark hair in his right hand as he tended to the nape. Her black lashes fluttered. The doctor swallowed thickly, pulse racing as he absorbed the situation. He was treating a woman in his home. A _younger _woman.

Said woman was being rubbed down with water her body so desperately needed. Images birthed of connotations, insinuations, and possible methods of payment began to creep into his mind. Bruce dunked the cloth, letting it drip over her parched lips as he gently patted her cheeks. He slowed, heart calmed at the steady rise of her chest. She was recovering very well, and it looked like he'd need to do nothing less than what he already was.

That was comforting. Bruce gingerly swiped the cloth down her arms. He allowed himself time to analyze her now that imminent danger had been averted. She was too pale for India, but the pale skin fit the shade of her mouth. The girl had a wealth of thick, dark hair that softly tangled around his fingers.

Her skin was soft against his callused fingers. She stirred.

"How are you feeling?" Bruce asked. He saw her brows furrow confusedly. Coriander couldn't decide if she wanted to seize up, play dead, or attack. All options seemed exhausting. Her eyelids fluttered lazily, setting the tempo for her sluggish mind.

"I'm better."

"Can you sit up?"

"I think so." Coriander felt dizzy. Bruce corrected her sway by pushing back with his left shoulder. It straightened her. "Where am I?"

"In my house." Bruce said, handing her the wet patch of scarf. "You suffered a heat stroke at the book stall."

"So you're like…a doctor or something? I hope." Coriander let herself hum amusedly.

"I am." he nodded. "Sip this. It's water. You need to restore your fluid levels." Bruce offered her what water was left in the jar.

"Thanks." whispered Coriander sincerely after nursing the jar for a few minutes. The sticky dryness of her throat seemed to melt away. Her headache was dimming, too. "Who are you, exactly?"

"Dr. Banner. Bruce Banner." Bruce pushed his glasses up on his nose. Nervous around women, wary of his year without an incident, he did anything he could think of to busy himself. That included trying to tidy up what little he'd brought with him. And moving his clothes from the bed so she could have more room. Once Bruce ran out of things to do he reluctantly returned to the bed.

She may need further assistance, after all.

Bruce rubbed the back of his neck, wondering how she could be so calm in a stranger's house. _She's probably still recovering from the daze_, he reminded himself. Seeing someone being _calm _around him was always good. He felt his thudding heart relax slightly. Dr. Banner jumped – out of surprise more than fear – when she dabbed at his temple with the scarf piece.

"Sorry." the girl murmured tiredly. "You looked like you were starting to sweat."

"So…" Bruce couldn't take the silence anymore. She'd finished off the opened jar and he gave her a second just to keep her sustained. "What's your name?"

"I'm—"

"CORIANDER! _My god_! What _happened _to you?!" Bruce stepped back quickly, distancing himself from the panic and shouting. That wasn't good for The Other Guy. The redhead stormed in, bypassing Bruce entirely, and trembled before the young girl.

"She had a heat stroke." replied Bruce quietly. Pepper's mouth fell open in a small _o_ as she gently sank to embrace Coriander. Tony used JARVIS to update the technology this time, so it didn't take quite as long. The phone call he received from Nick Fury also granted them quick leave. Apparently they were sending agents into India to _talk _with a possibly hostile force.

Stark was to vacate the area as soon as possible, as was his company. Pepper searched the market for Coriander, only to hear from the bookseller that she'd been taken by "The Doctor". Her heart stopped. Who was this doctor, and was he really a doctor? What kind of man picks up a fallen girl and just _walks off with her_?

The entire idea was unsettling, and she couldn't get to the described house fast enough. Tony caught up a few seconds later. "Tony Stark?" Banner was mildly surprised. He didn't expect to see a billionaire in this village.

"And you are?"

"Dr. Bruce Banner." Coriander informed. Tony's face lit up instantly.

"Big fan of your work on—"

"We need to go Tony, remember?"

"Ugh…_yes_. C'mon, Squirt. We've gotta run."

"Is Coriander your relative?"

"Close family friend." smiled Pepper, holding her gently at the waist as Cori found her legs once again. Touched, Coriander leaned into Pepper's shoulder. "And we can't thank you enough for your assistance today."

"Thank you, Dr. Banner." Coriander separated from Pepper, crossing the room to hold out her hand. Bruce tentatively shook it. He held her hand for a few moments longer; it reminded him of the civilized life he chose to leave behind. She was clean, healthy, and soft. And, most importantly, she hadn't shunned him for who he was or the disease he had.

It reminded Bruce that there were good people in a world of those who wished to hunt and use him.

"No," he squeezed her hand, "thank you."

"Aww….so cute!" teased Tony. "Now _come on_, Squirt! See you soon, Dr. Banner."

"What?" Bruce squinted suspiciously. Why did Tony say that? How would he know they'd cross paths again? They left too fast to answer any of his questions. A woman slinked in soon after, calm and donning an evening dress made appropriate by a wrap.

"Hello, Dr. Banner."

Bruce narrowed his eyes. Now he understood. "What do you want?" he cut to the chase, pretending to clean his glasses on his clothes.

"We need your help." he indulged her by listening. Some madman was after an item called the Tesseract, and had it. It emanated a gamma signature too weak for most to trace. He could, due to his expertise in the field. This woman, Natasha, scrutinized him calmly.

She was looking for the one thing he'd bend for, Bruce could tell. Natasha wanted to seduce him into compliance, but not with her body. With anything…whatever he wanted. The government needed him _that _badly. "I'll go on one condition," Bruce shook the unfolded arm of his glasses at her, telling her, not bargaining.

"What is it?"

"That dark-haired girl you passed? The one walking with Tony Stark? I want to see her again." he wasn't done with that patient. Bruce wanted to get to know her. She was the first person to willingly, sweetly touch him in a long time.

"That can be arranged." she motioned for him to follow. Bruce begrudgingly fell in step beside her. "Welcome to SHIELD, Doctor."


	13. Pheromones, Science, and Human Nature

We Need to Quit Meeting like This

* * *

**AN: **Thanks to Drachegirl14, Miko Hayashi, ThoughtlessRage, kiwi8fruit, and Maymayliu for reviewing the last prompt. Meant a lot!

To Drachegirl14: Ah, I better understand now. I may use that one. I feel like I've done too many Chitauri-based prompts. The Liberty suggestion was nice, but I don't think I'll do any awkward date setups xD (plus this is mostly based off of _Doctor Patient Confidentiality_, which she wasn't in. She got a brief mention in the duck chapter because it was a one-line reference). Tony's wedding would be a wonderful one I hadn't thought of. I can just see it:

Tony (standing at a microphone addressing the crowd with his new bride): "Thanks for coming out everyone! It's nice you wanted to watch me get married! Now I'll have witnesses to spread the word about me being off the market." people laughed. "But, with this being a Stark-based event, it needs to be memorable!" a quiet murmur welled up from the observing crowd. Were firecrackers fixing to go off? What would Stark do? He was a showman, after all.

"In honor of my unity with Ms. Potts – who is now Mrs. Stark – I'd like the bridal party and groomsmen to kiss! Just as Pepper and I have come together, our parties will do the same." Tony looked expectantly to the few men chosen to stand by his side, grinning mischievously. Bruce swallowed. _I hate you, Tony_, thought Bruce. The kiss landed softly and quickly, but sweetly, on his lower lip. _Okay, maybe I don't._

It'll be done after my other prompts I mentioned yesterday, though. I want to play around with college Bruce some more xD. And really want to write something with Bruce having braces, for whatever reason. I know…it's weird.

This oneshot is based off a prompt I thought up yesterday, and might sate Miko Hayashi's request for Bruce having male bodily issues. It seemed to fit best in the MARVEL U setting, so I wrote it that way.

WARNING: Slightly graphic scenes concerning sexual innuendos and implications.

Fai Mien, Clint Barton's OC, is mentioned as "Fai" in this chapter. She will be expanded on later, if and when I get time to write a Hawkeye story.

Enjoy!

* * *

Pheromones, Science, and Human Nature

Coriander scoffed, flapping the large sleeves of a donated lab coat to create air for her body. Fury expected Bruce and Tony to teach her lab etiquette, and how to handle all of the equipment when she wasn't running it. Today was one of those learning days, and perhaps the worst one she'd ever endured. Air circulation seemed nonexistent in the lab; she was quickly becoming a sticky mess under the protective white coat. Summer had yet to approach on the calendar, but it was apparent across campus.

The sun painted everything in gold. A subtle, persistent heat hung in the air. It drenched the lab, infiltrating through the lone window. She'd close it to cool the room, and Bruce would follow behind her to open it. Coriander was playing a very annoying game with the shy, nerdy fellow.

He was lost in calculations, tinkering with a state-of-the-art holographic computer. She tiptoed over to the window, flicking it down with the slightest push of her fingertips. "Don't even think about it." warned Bruce before it even touched the bottom. Startled that he seemed to know what she was up to, Coriander looked over her shoulder. Bruce wasn't even _looking _at her!

His glasses hung off his nose, brown eyes combing the screen with immense concentration. "How the hell did you—"

"We're the only two in the lab, Cori. And that window's been squeaking since Tony launched himself into it while working on the repulsor glove." Bruce informed. She scowled and crossed her arms. He grinned gently, causing the edges of his mouth to turn up slightly. The heat was nearly suffocating, wrapping around her body just enough to induce light sweating. Coriander re-bundled her hair for the third time, stuffing and twisting her dark locks into a high bun.

That took a few degrees of heat off her neck, but did little else. "Bruce, I'm _dying_!" Cori wailed pitifully, stomping her foot and drooping like a wilting flower. "Why do we have to keep the window open?"

"The Other Guy likes warmth." he explained. Bruce licked his lips and turned back to his work, not wanting to say more than that. It was embarrassing, really. He hoped if he looked busy she wouldn't press any further. "Grab another water bottle." offered Bruce, motioning to the open cooler at the end of the lab table beside him.

She sighed in defeat, stomping over to grab a bottle. Bruce eased himself back into a relaxed state, confident that the danger had passed. Until he saw her lab coat drop to the floor in a heap. Coriander methodically wet a napkin and began to wipe down her slightly flushed skin. His senses were especially keen during the summer, courtesy of The Other Guy, and Bruce couldn't miss the sound of clothing falling.

Or the sight before his eyes.

The genius bit his lip, stifling a gruff moan that was purely The Other Guy. He'd been a radiated freak for a few years, but that failed to make summer bearable. Bruce could only deduce that summer was like mating season for the Hulk. It was likely due to his affinity for heat and because of how well his nose could pick up the smell of people.

Bruce had fragments of memories from Mexico. Most of them involved looking through The Other Guy's eyes as they walked – or ran – endlessly through greenery. He'd always assumed they were in Mexico during those times, but didn't know for sure. Every time he awoke, he was back home. The smell of moist earth was strong, juxtaposed by the faint sweetness of native fruits and plants, he recalled.

Those hot, dense jungles allowed Hulk to run freely, recklessly. To smash and destroy as he wished. Bruce vaguely remembered feeling charged with delight. Being excited by the thrill of roaming free in a wild and natural environment. Empowered by knowing he was the singular dominant being in the entire jungle.

Hulk always took him to warm places like that during the summer. It's like the creature _needed _it to survive. Because he was at MARVEL, though, there were no warm jungles to rely on. He was suffering physical manifestations as punishment for leashing The Other Guy at such a desperate time. The baggy pants he took care to wear were quickly becoming useless as he watched Coriander cool her body.

He knew it was wrong, and knew he shouldn't be looking at his friend like this. But, Bruce found, he couldn't tear his eyes away. She was beautiful, and, aside from that, The Other Guy wanted to watch. The Other Guy quickly beat out Bruce, especially with his overabundance of summer hormones. Banner felt like there was an iron-clad grip on the back of his neck; he could almost _feel _Hulk's massive fingers clenched around his cheeks to keep his head turned.

They were both enjoying the sight, and Hulk knew it. He knew Banner liked Cori. Hulk also knew he exerted himself during this time of the year. It was unnatural to be stuffed in a quiet room when he was used to the menagerie of jungle noises echoing around him. It was unnatural to be contained when he was used to being free and dominant.

Hulk regarded Cori with fondness, but was beginning to get agitated with her closing the window. She'd done it several times against Bruce's wishes, and Hulk didn't like that. Something foreign welled up inside of him when she defied Bruce. He'd come to name the emotions with Bruce's help. Her acts of defiance filled him with surprise, amusement and…something unidentified.

It was dark and playful, manipulating him like an unseen puppeteer. Hulk wanted to hold her down. Maybe give her a warning spank for touching his window. The typically spent desire, currently not channeled, was mounting within him. The feeling clawed violently through him as the wet napkin worked its way up her calf and towards her thigh.

"Enjoying the show?" drawled Coriander sarcastically, planting her free hand on her hip. "_This _is what I'm reduced to because _you _won't let me shut the window." she wagged a finger at him. Bruce couldn't – or wouldn't, rather – say he was sorry. The Other Guy waited for her to do something, something worthy of snapping his last thread of restraint. He was eager to prove his strength and capability; all he needed was an excuse.

He wouldn't dream of forcing himself upon her, though. Bruce cared for her too much, and Hulk was against the idea. Hulk just wanted her to see how _strong _he was. And, truth be told, he was curious if another person could solve this unknown issue. Being purely primal, and not book-smart like Bruce, Hulk merely knew this feeling came during the summer.

It made him crave energetic activities, like running, and humid conditions. There was a near virulent desire to mark and establish territory during this feeling. In the jungles he usually calmed after making himself a sizeable nest of stomped plants, uprooted rocks, and twisted trees. Without anything to make a nest out of, Hulk couldn't exercise this feeling. Other students seemed affected by it, though, and he watched them closely through Bruce's eyes to glean the secret, elusive cure.

The boys and girls would occasionally get into a shouting match in the halls. They would throw things and lash out like Hulk did in the jungle. It fascinated him, and caught his eye in the back of Bruce's mind because he related to those emotions. As quickly as it came, though, it would be gone. Shouting turning into mad grabbing – desperate clawing – as their mouths locked and they fought for something he vaguely recognized as dominance.

They would be fine by the next hour, like it had never happened. If it worked for them, well…why couldn't it work for him? Coriander took advantage of Bruce's absent gaze, throwing her lab coat over his head. She bolted to the window, slamming it down victoriously. The noise echoed in Bruce's ears as he ripped the lab coat off his head.

_No, no! Don't change here! Don't! And don't you DARE think of hurting her! Cori's our friend!_

_NOT CHANGE. HULK NEED BANNER. NEED BANNER'S BODY. HULK KNOW NOT HURT, STUPID BANNER!_

_Wh-what do you mean 'need Banner's body'? What are you going to do?_

_BANNER HUSH!_

_Hulk! Hulk!_

Coriander knew better than to run when Bruce's skin began to shake. His veins were prominent and green, but he'd yet to change. There was a slight shudder to his body, but no telltale sign of massive muscles taking over. She didn't know what to do. Cori wouldn't run; doing that would hurt Bruce's feelings when he came to (even if he always told her to run while in his presence during "the change").

"No touch window!" Bruce yelled out in a much deeper voice than she was used to. It sounded like he pulled it from his gut, and the slight shake of his head told her he seemed to be fighting it. Or trying to. He strode over faster than she could blink. Coriander's heart beat rapidly in her chest as Bruce's frame closed in on her, bracing her up against the wall just beside said window.

Their chests touched. There was only a two inch height difference between them, but Bruce still towered over her in this state. Gamma-charged green eyes stared down at her, boiling with emotions she couldn't describe. The stare was intense, and made her shiver. It was just _primal_, that look.

Her hand lifted cautiously to open the window again, but Bruce's hand shot out. Coriander sucked in a sharp breath as his hand slammed into the wall, fingers curling surely around her wrist. Those green eyes twinkled as his mouth twitched slightly. "I _just _want to open the window Bruce, okay? I'm going to open the window and it'll be alright." Coriander assured soothingly.

"Not Bruce." growled the boy she knew. Was he unable to finish the transformation? She'd never heard of Hulk withholding a transformation. Coriander met the green creature a few times, and knew his mannerisms. Knew he was an entity separate from Bruce.

How could he be stuck?

"O-oh. Sorry, Hulk! I…I thought—well, you still look like Banner." she apologized, licking her lips. He radiated heat and muskiness. The scorching gaze he pinned her with was enough to make her tongue thicken and dry. Cori felt parched, like his eyes were sapping all the water and oxygen from her body. Hulk watched her pink tongue glide across her lips.

It made him shudder. He wondered what that tongue tasted like. How it would feel. Hulk snorted in response to her stammering, moving Bruce's free hand up to stroke her cheek. Coriander was pretty, green lines and all.

She was perfect for him and Bruce. Made for them, even. Coriander was smart enough to understand Banner and kind enough to deal with him when no one wanted to. "Are you okay, Hulk?" the contented spell of simple petting was broken. Never one for thorough communication, Hulk just frowned and grunted.

"What's wrong?"

"Not know. It happen to Hulk every summer."

"What does?"

Being primal meant having no sense of right and wrong. Hulk didn't know the difference between propriety and shame. He just knew something aggravatingly tight and warm wouldn't leave his body alone. Unashamed, he pulled down Bruce's once loose slacks to reveal the pulsing red length framed by dark brown curls. Coriander gave a strangled squeal, turned beet red, and quickly looked away.

"Bruce!"

"Not Bruce!" reminded Hulk, slamming his hand into the wall for emphasis.

"Sorry, sorry." Coriander quickly apologized. "You're just…you, well…you have an erection."

"What that mean?"

"Are you _kidding_? Bruce has never…you know…?" Coriander made a slight jerking motion with her hand. Hulk cocked his head curiously to the left, resembling a confused child. She blushed deeply, silently praising Bruce for his amazing ability to ignore bodily urges that assaulted normal boys and girls. It wasn't too hard to believe, though, because Bruce was shy and respectful.

Some kids just didn't _do _things like that. She never did. Cori tried it once, out of pure curiosity and because a friend said it would prepare her for wearing tampons, but she didn't like the feeling.

"What Cori doing with hand? What that mean?"

"It means…" _god this is so embarrassing_, she thought, wanting to crawl into a hole and die. "It means to make that hardness go away."

"Hardness?" Hulk knew what it was. Knew _damn _well what it was. Bruce had Tony Stark as a friend, and was often subjected to hearing juicy details of sexual encounters. Tony wasn't skimping on the traditional college memories or experiences, by any means. Hulk heard those details and descriptions plenty of times.

He just wanted to hear her say it because it was _naughty_. A dark part of Bruce, a part separate from him, wanted it also. It was the same part that wanted to spank her.

"What make hardness? How make hardness go away?"

"That hardness is, um…" Cori coughed into her free hand. "You're horny. You have an erection. That's the real name for the hardness. It means there's blood in your…in the manhood. Men t-typically get rid of it by having an orgasm."

"What orgasm?"

That one was a little harder to explain, and Cori winced. How to put it in a way Hulk understood? Bruce had been trying to write a profile on Hulk using recorded footage from the school. Hulk was readily described as a powerful creature that was largely naïve and suspected to be as intelligent as a child. Coriander knew he was smarter than that, but could understand his emotions stilting his speech.

"It's what happens when you're sexually relieved, either by yourself or another person."

"Cori do that for Hulk?"

"_What_?!" she crowed in disbelief. Her instinct was to gawk and maybe storm away, but Bruce's chest kept her trapped to the wall. Hulk blinked owlishly at her.

"Cori do that for Hulk?" he repeated.

"Why would you even—"

"Cori Hulk's friend. Friends help friends. Hulk not know what do. And…Hulk and Banner like Cori. Trust Cori." Hulk stated simply. How could she not know this?

Didn't she and Banner spend enough time in the labs together? Wasn't it obvious? She'd shown she cared by constantly dragging Bruce out for lunch, or turning off the lights and draping a blanket over him when he fell asleep in one of the many chairs. It was obvious she cared, and they cared about her.

"Know Cori can help." Hulk added. "Cori perfect for Hulk and Banner. _Know _Hulk and Banner like no one else. This for Banner—he tapped her head, referencing her mind—and this for Hulk—he taped her heart—which mean Cori for Hulk _and _Banner. Cori help Banner, now Cori need help Hulk!" his logic just shot down everyone's theory of him being stupid.

Coriander was touched by the amount of trust he exuded. The intimacy he shared with her, as Bruce was rather private with his thoughts. It was almost enough to take away from the fact that his need was pressing adamantly into the band of the skirt she chose to wear today. "Please?" Hulk murmured softly in his gravelly voice, eyes wide and clearly pained. He was so hard it hurt.

"O-only if Banner wants me to." Coriander stuttered. She refused to do something that would leave Bruce afraid to approach her. That would hurt too much. For a moment the slight twitching of his skin stopped. Cori felt the iron grip on her wrist fall away.

Green briefly faded into brown. Bruce's cheeks turned rosy. "I…I'm sorry Cori. It…it's just not easy to explain. He's not letting me out long enough to give you the whole story, b-but I wouldn't be against you helping me. Once he's done I _promise _I'll explain everything." his cheeks turned darker with every word, and Bruce kissed her temple shyly as recompense for the situation.

"I'll help." she whispered, putting her hands softly on either shoulder. Bruce was her friend. And, on the bright side, she'd be practicing something sexual with a safe, trustable man. It was surely just this once, right? What was the harm?

His eyes were completely overtaken by green once again. Hulk's green eyes darkened with anticipation. "O…okay, so what do we do?"

"Fix Hulk. Make hardness go away!" he bucked his hips lightly into hers, slightly impatient.

"I _know _that!" she snapped at him, "But _how_?"

"Not get snappy with Hulk!" he warned, taking her chin in his strong grip. Hulk wouldn't dare hurt her, but relished the firmness of his hold against her soft skin. Cori blushed, acknowledging her heart's wild flutter at the gesture. She never in her life imagined herself in such a situation, aiding such a primal creature. It was…kinky.

She _liked _the idea, in some twisted way. It sated the dark part of her that wondered what a relationship with a passionate man would be like. The curious, surely natural desire to want someone strong holding her. "Or what?" she whispered levelly to Hulk, able to do so because she knew him well. Hulk intimidated many, and was used to people running, but she wouldn't back down.

"Or…_punish_." he ground out, snatching up one arm again. His other hand floated down to her buttocks to give it a firm grab. Coriander blushed, body instinctually lurching from the wall. Hulk smirked, pleased with her red face and the closeness that move inspired. It made him feel good, too. Trying to save face in front of the alert, primal creature, she retaliated.

Hulk's eyes widened as she returned the firm squeeze to his penis. It made him shudder, and tore through the heat and tightness threatening to consume him. Sparks seared trails through the fire and constriction, traveling to his groin at light speed. "More!" he demanded, the plea coming out in a guttural pant. Surprised, wary, Coriander gave him another squeeze.

Hulk responded by bucking Bruce's hips into her hand. This would get rid of the feeling, he knew. She continued to cautiously squeeze him, and Hulk buried Bruce's face in her neck. He felt _beyond _good. Coriander was a good friend. A trusted friend. A pretty friend.

She deserved to feel good, too. Hulk moved Bruce's long, slightly callused fingers between her legs. flipping up her skirt and pushing aside her panties. Coriander stopped, distracted by the movement. "More. Give more." urged Hulk.

"What are you doing?" she was completely unresponsive to his urging, much to his demise.

"Want make Cori feel good, too."

"I…I don't think I need—" he stuck one finger curiously into her slick slit, receiving an unexpected moan from the woman. She was just beginning to ooze need, and was moist from a light sheen of sweat. Coriander shivered as her body molded around Bruce's finger. The feeling was indescribable, but equal parts pleasure and pain as he stretched her. Hulk continued to wiggle Bruce's finger curiously around the wet sheath, exploring every inch of her walls.

This was nice. It dulled his desire to dominate, as he was already exerting his strength and showing her his skills. "More." Hulk reminded in Bruce's voice. "Finish."

She could barely think, let alone handle him while he was doing _that _to her. Hulk seemed ignorant about his pace and vigorousness. Her legs were already trembling. A coil was tightening inside her, fueled by a different kind of heat not attributed to the coming summer. Breathless, up on her toes due to the depth of his working finger, Coriander rushed to finish the task before she fell over the edge.

It was coming fast for the younger virgin. She'd read enough romance novels – and scientific studies, and issues of _Cosmopolitan_ – to know what an orgasm was. The "cliff" – as it was so popularly called – was fast approaching. She was essentially barreling towards it, and prepared to careen over it with Bruce. Hulk. Whatever. _Them_.

Her hymen had been broken, but she was too lost in the ecstasy to notice. Hulk snatched her up in this torrent of animalistic passion, and she was drowning in it. He was her only life raft, buried deeply and safely within her. Bruce's seed was spilt along her inner thighs and the wall. Green eyes disappeared briefly while Bruce's body rocked with the vestiges of his release.

She followed, quaking against him. Her walls released his finger shortly after. He subtly tasted the glistening finger. Coriander was sweet with a hint of saltiness. Hulk faded into Banner after giving her a slow, appreciative kiss.

It was good enough for now. "I…I'm sorry!" Bruce blushed. "I mean, I'm not because that was a-amazing, but the whole context is—"

"Hush, Bruce." Coriander kissed him, gripping the collar of the lab coat he wore. She was far too giddy for him to ruin her mood with apologies and imagined discontent on her behalf. No man had ever given her that type of pleasure, and it was to _die _for. It was special, too, because it had been with him, and Bruce was a good guy.

Bruce complied, willingly let her siphon his IQ with that mouth he loved. "Does this keep the Big Guy under wraps?"

"If I say yes can we do it again?" she laughed.

"No, seriously, Bruce. Does it help?"

"More than those massages and herbs from Fai." he admitted.

"Maybe we can get Fury to turn a blind eye, then. He's always looking for ways to help you relax."

"This definitely works." Bruce nuzzled her cheek. She blushed, burying fingers into his dark, curly hair.

"So what does _this _help, exactly?"

"The Other Guy goes into heat, I think. It's the best description I can think of."

"Oh _fantastic_." Coriander mused dryly. "An eight-foot tall, incredibly strong horny guy. What are we to do?"

"_We _are to get Fury's blessing concerning you being his cure. My cure. Our cure." Bruce smiled, kissing her nose. She blushed, pecking his lips as they moved as one seamless unit to clean up. God forbid Tony walk into the lab and see the wall.

"Should we go do that now, then?" Cori wondered, throwing the wad of napkins away as Bruce put up the sanitizer and began to wash his hands. She washed hers, copying his motions of drying her hands and fixing her appearance.

"Considering summer hasn't officially started and this stays with us the whole summer, yes." Bruce pushed his glasses up on his nose. There was a slight twitch between her thighs as they walked, be it from her ripped hymen or his absence.

"Then let's go." she said, nodding her head to the door. Bruce shyly laced his fingers into hers, starting for Fury's office and the maze of hallways within the university.

"Thank you." Bruce kissed her cheek. She kissed him back. _I have a feeling I'm going to enjoy summer_, Bruce thought with the smallest of proud male grins.


	14. Catch!

We Need to Quit Meeting like This

* * *

**AN**: Thanks to Maymayliu and Miko Hayashi for reviewing the last chapter!

This is set in MARVEL U. I got to thinking, "How would training go for them? And how would they try to train Hulk?"

It's one of my personal prompts, not a suggested one. I'm thinking of doing one where Cori goes to the zoo and Hulk is believed to be a rare species and is locked in captivity for study. Then he kind of just…wants her, so he gets her. It seems to cliché, though.

This one's going to be on the shorter side, and fluffy :D. To my knowledge, Burger Beast doesn't exist.

* * *

Catch!

Bruce groaned, frowning at the notice posted on the dormitory door. It was his day to train. Tony chuckled after a deep, sleepy inhale. His morning had barely started and it was already horrible. Stark returned with a cup of coffee for his friend.

MARVEL U insisted each student train three times a week, and set up a rotation to ensure that happened. Teachers were ordered to give assignments early to avoid schedule conflicts, and it was up to the students to finish them. Bruce had no problems on that end, and often found himself without homework. Unfortunately, that meant he couldn't use the excuse to weasel out of training. "Who's in your rotation?"

"Steve and Thor." mumbled Bruce.

"Oh." Tony puckered his lips sympathetically. That was both good and bad for Bruce. Hulk listened to Steve easier than Thor. Putting Thor and Hulk in the same room, however, was bad – like storing candles next to gas cans! "Well…at least you'll keep The Other Guy quiet for a few days!" offered Tony optimistically.

"Yay." mumbled Bruce sarcastically. He abandoned his coffee cup in favor of packing an extra set of clothes for training. When he returned from being The Other Guy his clothes were never whole. Bruce had learned to sew to offset the cost of replacing his pants, but running around in heavily stitched clothing was unsightly. They ultimately never held together, not with Thor's brother around.

Fury barely managed to make Burger Beast drop the lawsuit concerning public indecency. Bruce knew his roommate, and knew Tony was moving in on his abandoned coffee. Wanting revenge for Tony's mock sympathy, Bruce ducked behind the kitchen entrance. "You drinking my coffee?"

"Well, you're not doing it." chuckled Tony sleepily.

"Hope you like it! I spit in it!"

_PFFFT!_ Bruce chuckled; he betted coffee was all over the counter and floor.

"You're an ass, Bruce!"

"Just practicing my subtlety and cleverness for training." he assured. Training involved fighting alongside the two chosen teammates. Fury, Maria, or Coulson logged the scenario electronically, watching from above in the control area. If they noticed an increase in the length of completion time, or weak area, the suffering student was subjected to further training. Students who didn't get along well were reprimanded and forcibly chained to one another for a day.

Loki and Thor had been the first example of that punishment. Bruce was mortified by the idea of being shackled to Thor, if only because of The Other Guy. _Please be a doable task,_ prayed Bruce. Training was like playing Russian roulette; the scenario was chosen at random from a list of possible field incidents they may encounter one day. Each training session could be up to an hour long, and took place in the morning unless one of the other students had an issue outside the university.

Steve was wholly committed to MARVEL U in every way. There was hardly a club or sport he _didn't _try out for. He would have no issues with training; Steve _lived _for training. Thor liked to prove himself, as he was nothing but a burly, energetic male. Bruce saw no way out, and resorted to chewing the inside of his cheek as he reported to the training room in fresh clothes.

* * *

"Your objective today is to catch your designated partner." Fury said over the loudspeaker.

"Catch?" parroted Captain curiously. "Are they going to fall?"

"No, I mean catch as in _detain_, Captain." he explained. "When in the field you may need to catch an enemy to secure information or keep a panicking pedestrian from further harming themselves. These ladies have been instructed to provide varying degrees of resistance. How easy this is for you is up to them. You have ten minutes to catch your partner."

Bruce swallowed. He couldn't tell if Cori's smirk was a warning or a comfort. The training room was littered with equipment bourgeoning heroes needed to stay fit; there were weights, punching bags, benches, ladders that led to pockets in the wall, a network of pipes, air ducts, and dangling rings to practice aerial infiltration. This was a playground for someone lithe like her. A buzzer sounded.

Hulk emerged effortlessly, green eyes tracking Coriander as she jumped off Gersemi's powerful, interlaced hands and latched onto a ladder. Thor swung Mjölnir to propel himself forward, intent to take the half-Asgardian off her feet. She was better versed in Midgard than he, and they made a good pair, but they were rather chaotic. It came with having Asgardian blood (and raging hormones). Growling at them, tempted to kick the playfully rolling pair from underfoot, Hulk continued towards the pocket.

"This is supposed to be a _challenge_, Hulk! At least let me get to the other side!"

"Fine." Hulk grumbled, sitting down. He checked before sitting, of course. Liberty was already in Steve's arms. She'd tried to climb a punching bag and hide atop the mount, but Steve unhooked the bag and took her with it. The Other Guy was the only one still needing to catch his partner.

Hulk didn't mind. Watching Coriander move like something of a squirrel was funny. He enjoyed just being out of Bruce's mind for a change. Having Coriander around put him at ease, and Hulk regarded the training session lazily. It could end in seconds if he wanted, but he didn't want it to.

He liked spending time with Cori. She was halfway across the rings when Hulk decided he wanted to hold her. Hulk huffed lazily, blowing the rings upward like wind chimes to send her airborne. She yelped, flew into the air, and flapped her arms wildly on the way down. It made Hulk laugh; the noise rumbled through the training room like a gentle earthquake.

"Catch Cori!" Hulk grinned brightly, closing his fingers carefully around her. She puffed out a shaky breath, blowing hair from her eyes. He laughed. The buzzer sounded, indicating that the training session was over.

"Yes. Yes you did. Now put me down, please." Hulk gently set her down. Coriander straightened her shirt, fixed her hair, and looked up at him. Hulk's green eyes glittered excitedly. He looked like an eager child awaiting praise. "You did a really good job, Hulk. That was fast. Almost _too _fast!"

"Hulk _very _fast!" he gave a snorting laugh, lips twitching up and down with his chuckle. The green giant banged his chest proudly. "Look, Hulk catch again!" Hulk knew how to be careful, and was aware of his massive hand, but he still locked it down over Cori like a fleshy cage. It was kind of fun, actually. Cori always made funny noises when he surprised her.

Catching her and releasing her was a pleasure all its own. He could do it all day and exert little effort. It was like playing with a toy. A toy he cared about. Hulk chuckled as Cori tried to crawl between the spaces of his fingers, and clenched them softly to catch her in his fisting hand. "See?" he smiled, green lips closing over his teeth as he drank her in. "Catch." whispered Hulk, gazing at her like he'd never seen her before.

The intense, curious stare never failed to make Cori blush. Hulk was extremely primal, and his eyes were easy to read. She was always regarded with fascination. He was the only one to ever look at her like that. "Hulk catch. That mean Cori Hulk's. Cori pet Hulk's hair like Hulk like because Hulk catch." he instructed.

To him it was normal communication. It was the simplest he could muster. Most would take it with offense because of his gravelly tone, but Coriander didn't mind. Hulk was basically a large, needy child. Or an insistent cat.

She complied as he tucked her into his cheek and ear. Coriander was used to sitting up on his shoulder. "Dr. Banner, you can change back now." Fury had yet to leave the control room.

"NOT BANNER!" roared Hulk.

"I got him, Director." promised Cori. "He's going to be like this for a while."

"If you say so, Ms. Henson. I suppose I'll shut down the training room for the time being."

"That'd be best." Cori nodded. She imagined Hulk was feeling neglected as of late. Bruce had a tendency to fall into intense studying or working spells with Tony. It diminished his chances of coming out, and Bruce hated regarding Hulk as a separate entity. Hulk always came to Coriander for that because she acknowledged something Bruce wouldn't: the other side of him.

Hulk unleashed a gravelly mewl as she buried her fingers in his hair. He liked a good scratch. She brushed a finger teasingly down his ear. Grunting, Hulk buried his ear into his shoulder as he pouted at her. Cori laughed.

Like usual, they ended up on the floor. Hulk would lay on his right side while Coriander scratched and rubbed at the back of his neck. Once his eyelids began to flutter, or he grew bored with having her behind him, Hulk would pinch her little waist between two fingers and roll onto his back. She then perched atop his chest, content to lay there and listen to his heart. Tracing patterns across his heated green skin and the dark brown curls of chest hair usually did Hulk in.

It was no different this time.

"Got you." yawned Bruce lazily, draping an arm over her waist. She laughed.

"Fantastic. Catch yourself some clothes before Tony comes in here."

"Too late!" sang a voice over the speakers. They groaned.

"Did I tell you or didn't I tell you?" Tony's grin was audible. "She's a good catch!"

"Lame, Tony!"

"Paying you back for that lame coffee trick, Banner."

"Why don't you get clothes on and go catch him?" Cori suggested.

"Good idea."


	15. No Touching Allowed

We Need to Quit Meeting like This

* * *

**AN: **Thanks to The Next LJ Smith, Miko Hayashi, and Maymayliu for reviewing the last chapter. I'm waiting for a few regulars to review on _The Pursuit of Liberty _so I decided to write this. These are shorter, anyways, and this receives more attention because it's all drabbles xD.

This idea is definitely for 'mature' audiences, so don't read if you don't like. I have another idea that I want to do. Slightly smutty xD. It's basically what would've happened if Coriander went in Natasha's place to retrieve Bruce. Also, to save confusion, this is a twist on pre-_Avengers_ movie events. Mostly: "What if someone else – General Ross – found Bruce before Natasha and SHIELD?"

* * *

No Touching Allowed

_HULK NOT ANIMAL! LET HULK OUT! OUT…OUT!_

_The exhibits aren't meant to break, Hulk. We'll have to think of another way._

_HATE GENERAL ROSS! HATE BETTY!_

_This wasn't quite the middle finger I was expecting, but at least he couldn't get a blood sample while you were unconscious._

_NOT HELPING!_

_Just calm down. We'll think of something._

Snorting, giving a grunt, Hulk complied. He'd have to trust Banner on this one. All of his roaring and jumping around had only scared people off. Handlers deposited his meals in the presence of trained shooters equipped with tranquillizers and tear gas. They weren't afraid to saturate his humid, jungle-like habitat with tear gas, and had done so three times already.

Once the fumes safely cleared, the meal was placed next to him. Hulk always found a pallet of food whenever he awoke. In truth, the habitat wasn't bad. It was pleasantly hot and bursting with a menagerie of tropical plants. He felt like he was back in Mexico, only the floor of his habitat was composed of equal parts stone and moist sand.

Hulk buried one big toe into the earth, frowning. The cycle of rage was endless within his mind. Bruce hadn't been out in days. If he wasn't angry at Ross, he was mad at the handlers. He was angry at himself, also, because Hulk was ineloquent compared to Banner. His voice – or lack thereof – was keeping him locked in here.

There was nothing more frustrating to the giant than to know he was human and be unable to prove it. Bruce couldn't come out until he was calm, and Hulk was far from that. Unlike Bruce, Hulk expressed his emotions freely. He regulated Bruce, and the caged hatred for General Ross had sustained this gigantic form for days. Hulk was still in the process of expending Bruce's pent-up rage.

The fact that he couldn't break the glass surrounding him only created another wave of rage. Hulk didn't like the people who came to gawk at him. Camera flashes, giggling children, and audible taunts of 'Do something, do something!' weren't helping. He was nothing more than an attraction to these people, and that hurt _Bruce_. Bruce was unable to express himself, so Hulk lashed out for him.

Charging across his enclosure, climbing trees, banging on his chest, roaring, and uprooting plants only brought more people. That was most insulting because they thought him nothing more than an animal, and he wasn't an animal. There was a _person_ beneath the green skin. Hulk gave a soft snuffle as the cluster of visitors left. Leaving visitors meant a meal was coming.

His enclosure had heavily guarded steel double doors. It was the only way they could deliver his food. Watching six or seven people maneuver the wheel-able pallet wasn't unusual, but seeing someone new was. _MAYBE HAVE CHANCE AT ESCAPE. _Hulk's green eyed narrowed curiously on the new face.

_How so?_

_MAKE NEW GIRL FRIEND. SHE HELP HULK ESCAPE!_

_I'm sure the others have told her about your temper by now._

_BANNER QUIET! HULK MAKE HULK'S PLAN WORK! WATCH!_

"—so once the summer ends I'll get zoo passes for a year?" clarified the new girl. Hulk could only tell her apart by smell; she wore a khaki uniform like all the others. The older woman she spoke with gave him a long, hesitant look.

"Yes, as a thanks for being in the volunteer program."

"My sister's kids are gonna freak." she laughed, tucking a loose strand of dark hair behind her ear. The woman laughed. Hulk watched the new girl flap her uniform top. It was on the hotter side for clothed people, but Hulk thought it was perfect. He was naturally wild, and suited for such weather.

The generated breeze carried a hint of lavender, femininity, sweat, and a distinctly human scent. Hulk inhaled deeply, startling the exiting deliverers. He lumbered forward like an ape, knuckles leaving impressions behind as he closed in on the new girl. Standing at his full height of eight feet would give them a chance to run off.

"Don't move." whispered the older woman as she huffed unpleasantly at the ones who willingly abandoned them.

"Alright." Coriander stayed perfectly still. She'd been working as a zoo volunteer for almost a month, but hadn't been to this exhibit. Because she wanted to see what a "Hulk" was, and had yet to feed him, she'd asked to tag along. They let her, stuffing her head with warnings of his temper and violent behavior while loading up food. The zoo workers couldn't be more wrong, she thought.

Hulk wasn't angry at all. He'd been sitting quietly, just watching, since they'd entered. Until now. Shivers coursed through her as he sniffed curiously, large green face bobbing around her head and shoulders. His huge nostrils conjured enough air to tousle her ponytail, unraveling it slightly.

The involuntary squeal she made when his large, pink tongue stroked her cheek fell on deaf ears. Bruce had memories of friendly dogs licking people in the face, and the people loved the dogs for it. He would do the same. Content that his plan to befriend was taking off, Hulk backed up several paces and returned to his quiet sitting position. Tingling localized in his chest; it was something Hulk vaguely recognized as male pride.

Her hair was tousled and sticking up because of _him_. That was _his _saliva on her cheek. She belonged to _him_. Hulk resisted the urge to bang his chest, allowing himself to snort and bury his knuckles idly in the ground. The girl was rushed out by the older woman once they saw his attention was elsewhere.

Hulk refused to feel defeated as he was met with silence and loneliness. She'd be back. He'd just proved that he could be gentle. Bruce comforted him by pointing out they may send her in because he hadn't reacted violently. That softened the odd, unexplainable ache stabbing at his heart like a pin.

* * *

"Easy, easy, that's just Jill. You know that." Coriander had become Hulk's babysitter mere days after the licking incident, and had been with him for almost a month now. The newly discovered creature was quick to show favoritism, and howled and charged at anyone who'd come to visit. Scientists flocked to the zoo in order to study him. They'd asked her to sit in with the green giant after witnessing the rage and destruction he preferred when alone. Like a sedative, Coriander soothed him.

She was unaware of his ulterior motive. Her days were spent keeping him company in the enclosure, receiving curious pets and firm grasps about the waist when another employee came in. Hulk snatched her up when others came near, afraid she'd be forcibly removed. Jill sneaking in to refill his massive water bowl – which resembled a metallic plant pot more than anything – was no exception. Coriander was still adjusting to the stomach-flipping speed at which he could snatch her up and bring her to eye-level, but remained calm as she scratched through hair by his ear.

He hated his ears being messed with, she'd learned, but didn't mind hair petting. Hulk gave a coarse mewl at the affection, his growl half-warning her to stray from his ear. Coriander giggled, unafraid, and traced the shell of his ear back into his curly locks. It was a game they'd play; she'd tickle his ear and he'd respond by licking half her face to ruin her hair. The Other Guy cackled softly and slowly at her demise, smirking crookedly at the wing-like pieces left behind from his deliberately sluggish lick.

She tasted wonderful, even if he only ever sampled her face and neck. Hulk picked right when he picked her, he knew. "Alright, alright! You win!" Coriander shrieked happily. He let out another low, booming laugh.

"That thing totally just licked the chick!" Hulk sneered. It was easy to forget he was in a reinforced glass cage. People stared at him all day. If it wasn't the visitors, it was the scientists. Or the cameras, which they were finally beginning to understand he didn't like. Only four sets had been broken thus far; he hoped a fifth wouldn't be necessary.

A large cluster of older males stood before him. Hulk's free hand tightened, slamming into the ground. "Easy, Baby Eyes." Coriander cooed gently, ignoring her saliva-sticky face and wild hair as she smoothed her hands along his fist. _NOT SAY NICKNAME! NOT NOW! _Hulk wanted to shout while Bruce jokingly teased him about being embarrassed. Cori looked into those narrowed green orbs, searching for the curious, hesitant lost child she'd seen on her first few visits.

It was his eyes alone – so large, so confused, so nervous – that compelled her to take up the offer of watching over him. He looked lost and lonely. She couldn't bear to decline when he seemed to lumber around like a punished child, shoulders drooping with pain and distress. Those eyes reminded her of a hopeful child, of a baby left alone at school for the first time while the parent walked away. The parent knew they were coming back, but the child didn't.

They felt abandoned and hurt. His eyes bore the same two emotions.

"Lick her again! Lick her again!" encouraged one boy.

"Rip off her shirt!" suggested another.

Hulk's nose twitched rapidly in a series of short, quick snorts. His unoccupied fist tightened. Cori could almost hear the grating of his teeth as his chest began to rumble. "Ignore them. C'mon, Baby Eyes." Hulk hugged her to his cheek, turning his back in hopes that they'd lose interest. She'd become the object of their stares, and Hulk didn't like it.

She was _his_. He was the dominant male and she belonged to _him_. Those puny humans were beneath him. Hulk was stronger, larger, and well-hung (and he'd prove it if Cori wasn't with him). Cori startled easily, and let him know early on that purposeful exposure wouldn't be tolerated. It made her uncomfortable.

Being primal, Hulk didn't understand. He saw nothing embarrassing about his impressive length. In fact, he was _proud _of it. Bruce explained that shame was a higher-level emotion, and that people who didn't fall into spells of rage typically felt it. Running around naked, Bruce explained, was automatically related to sex and sexual things.

Blatant sexiness was frowned upon in society. Hulk roamed freely in his enclosure, embracing the moist heat and indulging in his desires to smash and rule. The undertone of excitement was constant for him, and Bruce explained that she'd been flustered by his erect length. Pulsing with blood, lightly veined, and nearly pointing right at her, Coriander almost fainted on sight. She hadn't noticed it while wrapped up in a conversation with Jill, and had her back to him when he originally approached.

Now, though, that issue was gone. Or so she thought. Occasionally, like now, Hulk would act in a way that screamed higher intelligence. He was clearly capable of human-like emotions such as jealousy. And, sometimes – unless she was going crazy, which she considered – his stare would take on a smoldering quality.

She was beginning to think that Hulk wasn't a rare animal species at all. Cori thought he showed too many signs of humanity for that. Such a realization was stunning and slightly embarrassing. If that was the case, and he wasn't an animal, how was she supposed to take the unyielding rise of his member she'd notice when facing him for the first time? Hulk nuzzled into her angrily, wishing she could absorb and sate the rage like she usually could with a simple touch.

It wasn't happening this time. The depraved, insistent chanting was getting on his nerves. His inability to speak and explain to her his innermost issue – helping Bruce get out long enough to attain freedom for the both of them – at the fear of being recorded was getting on his nerves. All of the scientists were getting on his nerves. _Everything _was pissing him off.

Hulk set her down by his water dish. Cori winced as Hulk banged on his chest and roared loudly enough to make the metal vibrate beneath her fingers. The visitors merely laughed. Enraged that they hadn't left, Hulk began to jump around and rip leaves from the trees in his habitat. His roaring and stomping was cut short by the sound of sputtering.

Realizing that the noise came from within his enclosure, Hulk quickly looked by his foot where Cori was. She was drenched from head to toe, standing in a puddle. The overturned metal water dish was to blame, and Hulk poked it into an upright position. Cori spat out a mouthful of water, squeezing water from the bottom of her shirt. He was vaguely aware of zoo staff forcibly clearing the walk before his exhibit.

Vaguely aware. Most of his attention was on Cori. Hulk had never seen her soaked with water. Much less in something skin-tight. The angry buzzing in his mind quieted.

Now seemed to be a good time to come clean. There were few thoughts to clog his mind or constrict his throat. He smashed the cameras Bruce observed a few days prior. If they figured out he could speak like a human being they'd _never _let him out. "Cori…" Hulk squatted, scooping up the sopping wet girl.

She shivered, the contrast of his warm breath across her cool body nearly too much to bear. "Cori help Hulk. Help Bruce."

"You can _talk_?"

"Help Bruce, Cori."

"Who the _hell_ is Bruce?"

"Bruce inside." Hulk tapped his chest lightly, curling fingers in against his mediastinum.

"I…I don't understand." Cori shook her head. Her hair slapped her thickly in the face, clinging to her cheekbone.

"Hulk come out when angry. Bruce inside then. Need make Bruce come out."

"So you're only here because you're angry?"

He nodded.

"And you're someone else when feeling anything _but _angry?"

Hulk nodded again.

"Now you want me to make you feel something else – anything else – to get Bruce out? What am I supposed to do?" Hulk gave a shy coo, lacing his fingers together and rolling his thumbs. He snorted occasionally, lips twitching up and down in an uncertain grin. Cori blinked, blushing deeply when Hulk administered another long, slow lick. It all made sense – the noises, the shyness, the finger play.

"Oh. _Oh_. W-well, I don't think that's in the job—"

"Hulk trust Cori. Need help. Help for Bruce. Bruce _human_, and Bruce need get out." Hulk looked at her almost imploringly. "Hulk be gentle." whispered the giant, as if that would change her mind.

"Just enough to make you change back, right?" Cori honestly didn't know why she was agreeing to this. Part of her wanted to know if a man was trapped on the inside. It would line up with her idea that he was more than he seemed. And, what could he possibly do with his height and mass? There was little harm involved, she imagined.

Hulk nodded, wedging his thumb curiously and carefully under her sodden top. Her skin was chilled and moist. Cori trembled, able to feel his heated thumb soaking up the water and vanquishing the cold. He eyed her curiously, hiking of the fabric questioningly. Trusting his gentle grip, Coriander maneuvered numb fingers to the tiny buttons of her shirt.

"I'm _so _going to get let go. Or put in a mental institute." she breathed, releasing a shaky sigh as his gentle breathing thawed her. His grip was incredibly warm and sure. In some sick, sensible way she felt protected.

"Hulk not let people take. Hulk keep. Take with Hulk. Bruce and Hulk always moving. It be nice for Banner have friend." mumbled the giant thoughtfully as his eyes traced curiously over her soaked undergarments. She was pale, cold, and pliant in his hand. He'd never seen a woman like this; Bruce's memories of any similar experience were dusty and purposefully forgotten. The sight was nearly hypnotic. Cori felt her heart flutter as the molten emerald eyes met hers before returning, entranced, to her form.

He looked to be worshipping her with his eyes, and the idea that someone would give her such attention made her toes curl. Hulk was being incredibly delicate with the fragile thing; he didn't want to bruise her. The giant set to memorizing her complexion, the way her muscles trembled under his slow breaths, and the color of her undergarments. If he and Bruce had to run, he wanted to remember this.

"H-hey! Be careful!" Cori choked out, legs kicking up as he picked curiously at her bottoms. Hulk paused, amused by her jumping legs, and plucked the clinging bottoms again. He received the same motion. Her thighs trembled, core stimulated by the grabbing material and power behind his cautious tug. She willingly popped the button and undid the zipper to avoid his pressing fingernail.

One fingernail – _one _– was enough to split the lips of her sex and send the coil in her stomach winding tighter. Stabs of pleasure and anticipation followed every curious rake of his index finger. Hulk sat down, cupping one hand around Cori, enjoying the contrasting visual of white undergarments against his dark green hand. She was pitifully cold in his hand. Hulk brought her to his lips, the tips of two fingers pressing against her lower back as she molded around his nose and mouth.

His lips massaged her icy flesh. She couldn't tell if he was licking away faint traces of water or trying to speak. Cori could only focus on the texture of his mouth – warm, plump, chapped – against her skin. Hulk snuggled himself against the crooked, uprising formation of rock in the back corner of his habitat. It was the warmest spot, and one of the few things capable of supporting his frame.

Cori shivered thankfully, grateful for the overhead lights swathing her in warmth. It was nothing compared to him, though. "Not want catch cold." Hulk needed no reason to take her panties off; he just thought it would reduce startle. Being primal, he saw nothing wrong with sating his curiosity and laying her bare before him. The desire to have a bare mate, to undress her and lavish her, was natural to Hulk.

Necessary, even. Required to maintain his dominance; it helped the emotional, primitive side feel a bit more normal. A simple pinch of two mighty fingers had her bra lying in tatters. Hulk narrowed his fiery gaze on the hard pink nipples of her breasts. Cori trembled, stuttering broken words as he perched her on his closed green lips. How was she coming undone for such a creature?

She didn't know, and yet, she didn't care. Cori had spent enough time with him to know his inner humanity, even if it only emerged in snippets. Hulk mapped circles on her back, briefly distracting her from the intrusion of his tongue. "Oh…oh no. That—that needs to get out." her breath hitched as the powerful muscle stretched her. A mere wiggle electrified the engorged bundle of nerves at the apex of her thighs, and it was nearly unbearable.

Hulk allowed himself to smirk beneath her, relishing the mad scramble to find something grounding. He could taste her femininity, a hint of copper indicating that he was her first, the pulse of her body, the slight saltiness, and the quivering of her muscles. It was delicious. Much better than his water dish. She tried fruitlessly to avoid the delving, swirling tip licking deeper towards her core.

She folded against his nose, resting between his eyes as her toes curled helplessly against air. "Please…please…" Cori couldn't say anything else. Sweat was beginning to collect at her temples, brought on by the surge of heat he inspired. Each curious spear of his tongue, every flex, brought a wave hotter than the next. Hulk hummed, satisfied, into her thighs.

The Other Guy was pleased with the begging. And her taste. The sight of her coming undone as he lazily indulged in his treat. Cori cried out as the hum vibrated every fiber of her body, coaxing more liquid pleasure from her core. Hulk lapped at his chosen mate, feeling a surge of hot pride at the fact she gave him more.

Taking was only natural for a creature like him, and he intended to take until she had nothing left to give. Hulk growled into her soft mound, demanding more. Cori gave, unable to take the tremors rocketing up his wet muscle. Hulk snorted, succumbing to the heat crawling through him. It was a fire her release couldn't sate; the taste of her only sent the flames climbing hire, crackling faster. Pinching two large fingers around her waist, Hulk sealed her to his lips until he was finished.

Coriander had no idea how long the creature kept pushing her over the edge, catching her, and dragging her back just so he could do it again. She was dazed with pleasure. The feel of him inside of her. A half-formed thought concerning why they hadn't been interrupted surfaced, but immediately sank beneath the heat. Only someone with a death with would interrupt Hulk, and it was likely because they thought she'd be at risk then.

Hulk suckled her until she was pink, tender, and exhausted, narcissistically and languidly sipping from her quaking body. At last the greedy suction of his lips released her. Cori had faint scratch marks from the roll of his teeth, and copious amounts of saliva that hinted at the size of his tongue. Cooing to her, singing his praises, Hulk cuddled her against his nose as he finally relieved himself. The creature didn't dare use one hand for his own need; he wanted to capture every sensation of her body against him as he drew out the process.

It took seconds for Hulk to slake the weight and stiffness between his thighs. The taste of her lingering on his tongue was a magnificent catalyst, and something he wished to savor. His release triggered the rush of endorphins that launched Bruce to the forefront of their shared consciousness. Hulk didn't mind lumbering back to his designated spot at the back of Banner's mind. The Other Guy fell silent with the fulfilling of his desires and baser drives.

Bruce's jaw hurt like hell, and his mind was surprisingly blank when he took his first conscious glimpse of the enclosure. Coriander forced another weak gasp from her overly-worked abdomen and throat as she felt her thighs finally close comfortably. There was, indeed, another man. He was sweaty, like her, and had dark curls of hair framing a long, scholarly face. "Bruce," he breathed airily, drawing her into the curve of his throat so she could better hear his hoarse voice, "I'm Bruce."

"Cori." she replied with similar fatigue.

"We need to get out of here before someone comes to investigate." Bruce whispered against her slightly sweaty hair.

"It hurts to move." she mumbled. "And one of us has to come up with an explanation as to why Hulk is gone."

"No we don't. That's why I'm always on the move." Bruce gently rolled her off of him, collecting the massive pants to tie them around his waist as best he could. Coriander begrudgingly slipped into her partially dry uniform. Bruce stood up, only slightly aching, and tried not to deliberately hone in on her fingers as they redid the buttons. She was gorgeous, and for once he could thank The Other Guy's primal nature. At this point, when it was escape versus nudity, Bruce could care less that his torso and legs were bare for the world to see.

"C'mon." he scooped Cori up.

"But—"

"I owe you. And you don't want to meet the people looking for me. Trust me on this." Bruce whispered to her as he shouldered aside the double doors with the vestiges of Hulk's strength. Running through the zoo naked wasn't easy, but there were plenty of trails, walks, and festive plants to conceal them. He didn't know if anyone saw him, and he didn't care. Until another man stood, unmoving, on the path Bruce intended to cut across.

Bruce swallowed, trying to gauge the man's lethalness from the eye patch and facial scars. "I heard the attraction was an impressively rare, green animal. Not two people." chuckled the man in a deep, almost amused voice.

"And what organization do you belong to?" Bruce inquired, voice displaying similar dry amusement. Figuring out who was tracking him was like playing Russian roulette. Or spinning a wheel. There was never a shortage of people.

"SHIELD, Dr. Banner. We could use your help."

"How badly?"

"Terribly. Fate-of-the-world-in-the-balance terribly."

"So you'd be willing to negotiate, then. To give me things." Bruce felt his spine straighten with confidence. He knew when he had someone playing into his hand. His remarkable intelligence made something like that hard to ignore.

"How does safety for you and your…partner sound?"

"You won't put me in any cages?"

"Nope."

"No tests?"

"Not on you. We'll need you to test a few things related to gamma radiation. The artifact we're looking for carries a gamma signature just like you do."

"I'll bite. Get us out of here."

"Coulson?" Fury turned. A second man popped calmly from the brush, as if this were a casual meeting.

"Got it right here, Director. Here you are, Dr. Banner." he offered a pressed suit. Bruce set Cori down long enough to slip on the pants and button up the jacket, then picked her up again. She wore the abandoned pants like a towel, allowing Bruce to carry her as he followed the two men out of the zoo. They piled into a sleek black car.

Bruce should've run when the doors locked, he knew, but he couldn't. He'd made a deal, after all. "I hope you got your feel of grab-assy, Dr. Banner." said Fury as Coulson maneuvered the car across the parking lot and into the road. "The helicarrier isn't exactly the place for intimacy, despite the picture of romance an airship may create."

"_Airship_?" Bruce crowed, eyed bulging slightly. "You're putting me on an _airship_?"

"With several other special individuals, Dr. Banner. You're stay will be made bearable by Tony Stark, I'm sure."

"Tony?" Cori peeped, cheeks flushing. "Tony's on that ship?"

"Yes, Ms. Henson." Coulson nodded.

"Oh fuck. I'm never going to hear the end of this." she grumbled.

"He won't have a new reason to tease you, at least." offered Coulson comfortably. "There's restrictions against sexual touching on the helicarrier. Unless aiding in the prevention of serious mortal injury, of course."

Fury chuckled.


	16. (Yoga) Teacher's Pet

We Need to Quit Meeting like This

* * *

**AN: **This one isn't the "what if Cori was in SHIELD?" one, but the _why didn't I think of this before?_ prompt. Again, mature. Slightly smutty (I'm surprised Fanfic hasn't booted me yet, haha). Thanks to Ravenclaw Slytherin, kiwi8fruit (let me know when that prompt story gets posted, okay?), Miko Hayashi, The Next LJ Smith, and Maymayliu for reviewing the last chapter!

This prompt will have innuendos and blatant noticing of sexiness because Cori is human. And it actually happens in real life xD. This prompt is a little AU. Instead of Bruce actually "Hulking out" once he reaches a certain point of stress or excitement, Hulk is referred to as "the animal". His rage is turned into energy and power instead, most often manifesting in an intense physical activity (in this case, sex).

It's sort of like MPD, except he's conscious and can tell when that point has been breached. I guess it would closely be related to bipolar disorder (only without the possibly harmful emotional yo-yo. Think horniness instead of rage or depression).

* * *

(Yoga) Teacher's Pet

Carmen dared her to take yoga for a week. It was either yoga, or go out with the creepy bartender that kept offering her and Pepper drinks. Thinking yoga was the lesser of two evils, Cori entered the gym. She assumed Carmen picked the gym and this class because the instructor was ghastly or wrinkled. Her friend was sadistic like that.

"This section, commonly referred to as the abdominopelvic cavity, houses the rectus abdomini. Perform the Vasisthasana, or side plank pose, and you'll feel those muscles stretch."

The joke was on Carmen, Cori decided. Instructing the class of attentive students was a shirtless man. His skin resembled a lightly browned peach, and looked soft under the overbearing lights. A sprinkle of dark, curly chest hair further solidified the peach analogy for her. He was fuzzy and delicious-looking. "Now move to the—hold on guys. Are you here for the yoga class?" his eyelids fell in a partial squint as he turned to face Cori.

Stupefied by the sight of a chiseled torso, corded arms, and his quiet address, Cori merely nodded. Soft spoken, polite, _and _ripped? He was adorable. "The yoga class doesn't start for another fifteen minutes. This is Interactive Skeletomuscular Flexation for healthcare students."

"O-oh." it looked a lot like yoga to _her_! _If I say I'm thinking about nursing can I stay_? Cori wondered. Probably not, she reasoned. These students looked serious and meticulous about their stances. He probably had records, papers, and a sensible reason to decline a request to sit and watch.

The people on the mats probably paid money to take this class (and may not take kindly to interlopers disturbing their class). "I'll…I'll just wait outside." she pointed to the door, trying not to feel self-conscious about the yoga shorts and sports bra. _At least I match_, Cori thought as she sat idly on a bench just outside the door. Green made her feel confident; it matched her eyes. Bruce turned back to his students.

"Where was I going next?" he murmured curiously to himself. The accidental early entry made him lose his train of thought.

"Her ass." cackled one male student at the front. Bruce frowned, brows lowering over brown eyes. He didn't like language like that in his study area. Foul language invited rowdy behavior, and stress and craziness wasn't good for him. Yoga kept both of those at bay; it was slow enough to create calm, and demanded control.

"Easy, Lyle. You know I don't tolerate that kind of behavior." warned Bruce.

"I'd go there." Lyle grinned brightly.

"Would you like to demonstrate a bruised gluteus maximus for the class?" queried Bruce good-naturedly. He folded his hands behind his back in mock curiosity. Yoga had done a great deal to ease his anxiety, and in the position of 'educator' he was a bit more open than usual. These faces had been with him for almost two months, and he was beginning to really relax around them.

"Not really." Lyle replied.

"Then don't make me kick you out of my class." grinned Bruce as the others had a laugh at Lyle's expense. "Now…"

* * *

"Miss? You can come in now." Cori turned, hearing the instructor's voice. To her dismay, he had a shirt on. He held the door open with one hand, his other occupied with rolled up yoga mats.

"Thanks." Cori walked inside. Bruce let the door fall shut, distractedly spreading yoga mats as he went. The older man absently hovered around the younger woman, sensing confusion.

"You seem confused." Bruce noted as he threw the last mat down.

"Is there a place I can put my stuff?"

"There are lockers in the back, towards the left. Let me get you a lock." Bruce strode into his office.

"Do you always hand out locks or do you just _click _with me?" she asked once he dropped the little silver device into her hand. Bruce's lips twitched in a nervous grin as a small chuckle escaped. That was adorable nerdy.

"I had to." Cori grinned. "Being dorky is my way of breaking the ice." she explained. _And gauging you to see where this will go_, she added mentally. She would _definitely _commit to yoga for this guy.

"People usually start with their names, but a laugh never hurts." Bruce smiled. "I'm Bruce."

"Name's Cori."

The regulars didn't file in until at least ten thirty. Bruce had fifteen minutes to better know his newest face. Though he liked punctual attendants, most of his yoga students were elderly. They were using yoga as a therapeutic measure, easing stiffening joints or trying to correct back issues without visiting a pricy chiropractor. One or two younger businesswomen would pop in, but it was rare.

"So…what made you want to do yoga?" he picked his abandoned glasses from the metal lining his whiteboard full of anatomy notes, wiping them clean with the bottom of his shirt before sliding them up his nose.

Oh shit. What to say? 'My friend dared me'? He'd think she was weird. Cori shrugged. "Figured it'd be a good way to relax muscles without buying tons of muscle cream. Dancing isn't always easy on the body."

"Oh…you dance?" that was new. He scrubbed the whiteboard clean, sparing a – hopefully – subtle glance as he went. She was lean; it supported her dancer story. While rare, he'd been hit on before by visitors who wanted to 'stretch their body'. The girl was pale and leggy.

"Yep. It's my major." she shifted her weight casually from one foot to the other. He watched her right leg bend at the knee, showcasing scissor-like fluidity. The girl wasn't obnoxiously curvaceous, and had no surgically modified parts that Banner could identify with his vast medical knowledge. Coriander had a discreet attractiveness about her; she wasn't exceptionally glamorous, but wasn't flat and plain. She was equal parts seductive and shy.

"Fascinating." muttered Bruce. "A-and yoga's smart. Dancing will ultimately expose you to different cultures, some of which have routines that can injure an unprepared body. Did you know Latin dances have the highest rates of spinal injury in women?"

"Wow…no! Dancing can be a pain, but that's ridiculous!" Cori snorted humorously.

"It is." agreed Bruce. Her bluntness wasn't abrasive or startling to him. Usually, with others, it was. He supposed it's because she wasn't being deliberately, venomously blunt. Cori balanced bluntness with honest retorts that made Bruce feel like he was talking to a real person.

Most people would be stuffily formal, knowing he was the instructor. Others, in contrast, were fearfully quiet as they tried to avoid whatever educational wrath he may hold. Her disregard for both of these behaviors relaxed Bruce. It made him feel like she was getting to know _him _– not Teacher Bruce, but _Bruce_. "Why are you teaching yoga?" she decided to ask.

Bruce shrugged. "I picked it up in Brazil and studied it extensively. It changed a little bit everywhere I went, so it was an interesting pursuit."

"In Brazil? So you travel? That's cool! I want to travel someday. Don't know where, but it'd be cool to see the different cultures and all their colorful stuff."

"You'd like India, I think. A lot of their products have multiple details in different colors."

"Oh, you've been to India, too? Where _haven't_ you been?" Cori teased.

_With a woman…for almost a year_, Bruce thought with a grimace. To keep her from detecting his dry thought, he laughed at her gentle prodding. "Couldn't tell you. I've been around." his travels were mostly spurred by a desire to learn. Trying to control the animal, and find someone who could explain why he experienced drastic personality changes in the face of stimulus had something to do with it, too.

"Sounds like you have some stories to tell. I'd like to hear one or two sometime." Coriander grinned. He had a gorgeous shy smile. And his glasses? Adorably loveable. One of her weaknesses _had _always been a guy with glasses.

Her other weakness was an older man. Bruce qualified for this, too. Coriander liked them older because they were – usually – more mature and considerate than the males in her age group. They wouldn't consider someone like her to be _just _a piece of ass, and would get to know her for reasons beyond unzipping her pants.

"I could probably share a short one now, if not we can—"

"Hello, Dr. Banner!" an older woman sporting snowy hair breezed in with a bright smile, toting a little gym bag.

"Hi Mrs. Hearton. How are you?"

"Fantastic, darling. That move we learned last week _really_ took the tension from my hip. _And _my husband." she chuckled. Coriander felt her eye twitch, and bit her tongue to muffle a squeal. Older people certainly weren't celibate because of age, but she didn't want to hear about their adventures. Or picture them, which was happening because of Mrs. Hearton's sly smile.

"That's…great, Mrs. Hearton." Bruce tried not to drop his smile. She was a bold woman in her late sixties, and he should be used to her forward behavior, but couldn't be adequately prepared for everything that came out of her mouth. The slight tingling from his successful conversation with Cori had been snuffed like a candle. The pleasure of his mind being intelligently tickled was thoroughly dimmed.

"I know." she winked at him before dropping her mat in an open space in the back of the room.

"We can talk later if you want?" Bruce offered to Cori. Mrs. Hearton was usually the first one in. The other geriatric women typically arrived within the next five minutes.

"Sounds good." said Coriander. _I might have a chance here_, Bruce rubbed his chin as the other ladies filed in.

"Hello, everyone! To review, last week we…"

* * *

They were playing a dangerous game. There were no consequences, as yoga wasn't a legitimate class with patrolling superiors, but it was still risqué. Ignoring taunts from Carmen, Coriander continued with the yoga class, and had been with it for almost seven months. She and Bruce had a brief conversation the first day of class, finding time to speak as they picked up mats and washed them. That brief conversation, motivated by her genuine interest and his seemingly endless knowledge, transformed into other things.

There were other conversations, but it went beyond talking. It'd taken Bruce a while to ask her to a real lunch. He started small, asking if she'd like a cup of tea. His favorite was green tea, but Bruce always carried a variety of single-serve packs. Once or twice he thought their relationship was over.

The biggest rough patch was the day he stuttered 'Do you want one of my tea bags?' instead of 'Do you want one of my tea packs?'. She just blinked, almost missing the slipup. Instead of being disgusted and misinterpreting his question, she laughed like he'd told a hilarious joke. Bruce was _beyond _mortified, but knew if she could laugh at that he'd be alright for anything that happened in the future. It was comforting to know she wouldn't storm off at the first bit of awkwardness.

She seemed to like that he was full of awkwardness. Even doted on it. Cori didn't nag him into being different, and never teased him into a rage. If and when he came into a bad mood, she didn't linger, and gave him his space. The girl seemed to be able to read him, and Bruce was a bit sorry he was some ten years her senior.

If not for their age difference, and what society thought of couples with age gaps, she'd be perfect for him. Part of Bruce still wanted her, regardless. She was charming and shy, not unlike himself. Coriander built him up with her unflinching acceptance. Feeding on that, Bruce decided to start "the game".

He was absently baited, time and time again, by her crooked grins and glittering green eyes. This time, it was her turn to be at _his _mercy. Bruce had gotten a taste once or twice, feeling her tighten beneath his hands as he repositioned her for a proper stance. The blush and nervous clench was addictive; it sustained and intrigued him like nothing else.

A jolt of desire and power ran through him when she stiffened and blushed. She was perfection in his hands, and seemed to have a low threshold for physical touch. He imagined it was because of her status as a twenty-something virgin, but couldn't bring himself to care about the reason _why_ she blushed and made noises that aroused him. Most days she didn't even have to make a noise or request his help to check a stance.

Seeing her arrive in short yoga pants and a variety of sports bras was enough. Bruce could look as much as he wanted, able to hide safely by occasionally staring at others. Her gently secured bosoms were begging to be touched. It would be easy to push the thick shoulder straps aside and fold it down, or fold the material up towards her neck. He betted her nipples were pale pink, like her lips.

His mouth watered slightly at the thought. The students moved carefully into the warrior pose. Coriander knew how to do this one, but Bruce approached her, anyways. She'd sent him a taunting, flirty gaze. It was because she'd done it right, without help, but Bruce didn't care. A look was all it took, and they both knew it.

He squatted by her legs. "Move this one here. Opening up too wide means creating an opportunity for back pain." Bruce explained. She could care less about the excuse; Coriander just wanted him to touch her. They were both excited by the idea of subtle, public foreplay. Bruce gripped just above her kneecap, giving it a brief squeeze as he fixed her stance.

The instructor grinned, enjoying her slight shiver. She was delectable in every sense of the word. "And fix your back. You don't want to over-flex." Bruce's hands ghosted across her plump cheeks, fingers skirting her lower spine as he nudged her forward slightly. Her hips went back into him as she feigned loss of balance, and Bruce nearly lost it. Cori had gotten the best of him too many times; Bruce was going to get his chance.

"And that concludes the class." he announced, watching older women stagger to their feet. He couldn't take her by the hips, nip her neck, or caress her around the others. No, he intended to take his time. To level the playing field and make her experience every ounce of tension and heat she'd inspired in him. Preferably behind a locked door.

Maybe on the floor. Or in the washroom. The washroom sounded clever.

"Grandma!" Bruce turned, flashing a small grin at the child. It wasn't unusual for grandchildren or children to visit his students. Sometimes they were even picked up for appointments. He went about collecting mats. "Look, grandma, I'm a street dancer!" he wasn't expecting the little boy to roll backwards and kick up his feet.

_Right in the damn crotch_! Bruce groaned and sank to one knee, dropping the mat in his hand.

"You messed up my trick!" whined the boy. "I was gonna stand on my head!"

"Good heavens, Mr. Banner! Are you alright?" the grandmother asked.

"Fine." he grunted. "Please…go…" _before he gets me _again, thought Bruce. They filed out at Bruce's request as he limped to his duffle bag. A bag of ice reserved for small, chilled snacks waited inside. Nibbling after yoga kept him from splurging on pricey, nearby restaurants. He knew Coriander was still with him; she was always the last one to leave.

He liked it that way.

"Sure you don't need some help, Bruce?"

She was rewarded with something resembling a whine and a grunt as she followed him to the washing machine. It was embarrassing to have her watching over him as he leaned against the washing machine, but he appreciated it. Nothing could be worse than the tea bag comment mishap. "Need anything? I can run into one of the restaurants and ask for more ice?"

"You can give me an endorphin rush to combat the pain." mumbled Bruce in a choked voice. Cori grinned. She could tell he was joking, but deigned that he needed gentle touch.

"Poor thing." her arms threaded around him and Bruce closed the scant distance between them. He folded into her shoulder, resting his cheek against the column of her throat. The feel of fingers scratching through his hair as she massaged his back was worthy of a blissful shudder. Bruce wasn't sure how it evolved so quickly, but knew it started with the kiss to his temple. His fingers wrapped around her hips; Bruce kicked the bag of ice aside as he pinned her to the machine.

Cori rewarded him with a mewl of surprise. Bruce grinned, breaking away to check the door. Once he locked it, Bruce returned. His lips started desperately at the base of her throat, sucking hungrily. Round patches of bittersweet pleasure led the way up to her jawbone; Bruce let out a playful grumble as he nibbled her earlobe.

Her breath hitched, catching high in her bosom like her heart. Damn Bruce and his deep, sexy noises! They were purposeful, perverse noises. She felt her womanhood throb as his playful grunts wormed into her ear and traveled down her spine. "How is this helping you? Wouldn't an erection hurt worse?" Cori asked, causing Bruce to stop nipping every centimeter of her lower jaw.

He pushed his glasses closer to his eyes. His warm brown eyes twinkled laughingly. She bit her lip under that amused, scholarly gaze. "It hurts, but you make me feel better. And I know you can help me forget. Things that blow your mind tend to make other issues pale in comparison." he teased, maintaining their ritual of cheesy compliments and clever word play. Cori laughed; Bruce muffled the noise by engaging her in a languid kiss.

She released his lower lip with a soft _pop! _after threading it through her teeth three times. The last snap triggered something in Bruce. It was like a springboard; he felt himself catapult into the heat, into the desire for something hard, fast, and fulfilling. He snatched up her thighs, one per hand, and settled her on the washing machine's corner. Cori gave an airy chuckle at his sudden display of dominance.

Careful of his bruised, aching member, Bruce gently rubbed himself between her legs. He blindly groped for the knob, turning the washing machine on. Washing the dirty, perfume-scented mats and bringing her to the edge at the same time was too interesting to pass up for the genius. She jumped up at the first trace of gentle buzzing between her thighs. Bruce planted his palms firmly into her thighs, grounding the young woman's moistening clit to the very edge of the washing machine's corner.

She gave a strangled whimper. The combination of rocking and rumbling coupled with a prominent point invading her pink folds was nearly too much. Bruce knew it, and simply chuckled into her neck before drifting up to claim her mouth in a kiss. Her body was stiff and taut as she pressed up against him. Using his torso to block her escape, Bruce pushed the straps of her sports bra down with both hands.

Watching her breasts bounce with the motion of the washing machine was certainly interesting interactive skeletomuscular flexation. Cori cried out, arching into Bruce as his lips sealed around one pink nub. His teeth grazed the sensitive peak, and she clutched dark curls of his hair in response. Bruce's free hand came up to massage and pluck the unattended nipple. The yoga teacher kept her at the brink of ecstasy until the washing cycle ended.

She came apart atop the quiet machine. Bruce felt her wetness flush against his dry pants. He grinned as she slipped off onto wobbly legs. "I feel _so _much better." he mumbled, arms snaking around her waist from behind. "Now we should celebrate." teased Bruce casually, throatily, as he nuzzled her cheek.

"Let's change clothes and go—ha..._ah_!" Cori snapped up to the tips of her toes as Bruce's long, callused fingers slithered into her damp shorts. She was still tender and pulsing from her earlier release. Bruce could feel her body still quaking with the afterglow, and stroked his fingers along the pink folds just beyond her black curls. Her body readily accepted the curious entrance of his fingers, nearly sucking them up into moist tightness.

He buried two fingers in her slick core, thumb tracing loops around her sensitive nub. It didn't take long to coax another orgasm from her bucking form. She slumped against Bruce, grateful for the arm around her waist. Cori pulled her sports bra back on, listening to Bruce suck his fingers. "You're my favorite student." he purred.

"You're too cute for your own good." she sighed, unlocking the door to retrieve her bag, and the fresh clothes inside.

"So are you." he gave her buttocks a light squeeze before she popped him with the clean shirt and walked back into the laundry room to change. Bruce changed away from the windows, grinning when she emerged.

"Now it's your turn to take care of me." teased Cori.

"That didn't take care of you?" Banner joked. "I thought that noise meant—"

"_Feed me_, Bruce. Then cuddle me, maybe."

"Takeout at my place?"

"Yep." Cori wrapped her arm around his, snuggling against his shoulder.

"Are you staying over?"

"Naturally."

"Great. So…want to practice that position for next week?"

"Teacher's pet's off duty. I might evaluate the teacher's performance, though."

"We really _do_ click." he laughed, thinking back to her first cheesy comment. She smiled brightly as Bruce locked up the area and hailed a cab for them.


	17. Persuasion Tactics

We Need to Quit Meeting like This

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**AN: **Thanks to Miko Hayashi and Hefi for reviewing the last chapter! It meant a lot.

My lack of update is owed to the feeling of being drained. Just completely and totally exhausted. School is sapping my mental stamina and whatnot. That, and I'm running low on prompts again. Pretty sure I got all the ones I thought up. This one is the "What if Cori took Natasha's place to get Bruce?" prompt. Not as smutty as the previous ones, but it holds similar implications.

This was inspired by the scene where Bruce pushes the swinging wooden thingy and says, "I don't always get what I want." (to me, I think that means kids, but I don't know.) It shouldn't actually be confused with that scene, as it is only loosely based on it.

As always, if someone wants a prompt done, voice it. If I like it, I'll use it and give proper credit

* * *

Persuasion Tactics

"I don't think Natasha's appropriate for this mission." Fury turned his perfectly stoic face to Coriander. She'd been inadvertently roped into the secretive organization because of Tony. Playing around in his workshop one too many times caught Fury's attention, as had the uncanny ability she had concerning technology. Fury wasn't sure if Tony taught her what he knew, or if she simply had a talent for technology, but the girl was good. Aside from the fact that Fury thought SHIELD operatives could never be _too _young, Tony seemed to have a better work ethic when Cori was around.

"But she's more experienced." Tony quickly pointed out. He was her guardian in the eyes of the law, something her parents had allowed. As such, he was permitted into the briefing. Fury nearly grinned; it was the first time he'd seen the playboy so flustered.

"And she's still radiating bloodlust. This guy is very sensitive to cues like that."

"We're still talking the big, green rage monster, right?" Tony verified. He knew he was right. "Have you considered that a little bloodlust is good? Natasha will be able to speak his language, hypothetically."

"That's only one face of the coin, Stark. You and I both know that. It's already been determined—"

"By you, who is one person. I'd like to point out that, historically, determinations are typically done by a majority vote."

"She was picked by the program." growled out Fury, the grumble stifling any further intellectual protests. "Her personality was deemed most compatible with Dr. Banner."

"I don't entirely trust your back up. Give me a few hours. I'd feel safer if she had her own suit." Tony folded his arms across his chest with a frown. Fury could send in a hundred men to hem the little shack in India, it still wouldn't be good enough. This "Hulk" could smash people like empty cans!

"You want to put Coriander in a heavy iron suit? The same Coriander that ran into the wall when Coulson popped out of the trashcan?"

"Hey, I'm _right here_!" Cori reminded. "And freaking out is a perfectly normal reaction to people who pop out of places they shouldn't be!" she defended. A ghost of a smile twisted Fury's lips. Her silver screen-worthy shriek had been most amusing. Coulson scared Cori, and Cori scared the hell out of the rookies.

"You won't be here for long, Agent Henson. The jet is waiting for you. I suggest you get to it, as I expect you to be gone within the next ten minutes."

"Got it. Consider me gone." Cori saluted him.

"Oh, and Henson?"

"Yes sir?"

"Try to put on a serious face. You're going to collect someone."

Cori blushed. She radiated excitement, and she knew it. India was foreign, and held a mystical, magical charm because of that. How many times was she going to get to travel in her life? Much less in a cool government jet?

"Be careful, Squirt." Tony pulled her in for a hug. Cori wasn't a constant hugger, but wouldn't withhold hugs. She could understand Tony's worry.

"I've got forty people covering me, Tony. I'll be fine."

"Forty people are nothing compared to one radiated giant, Squirt."

"Ah, but one woman compared to one man should be enough." she smiled almost smugly. While Cori wasn't conceited, she knew the protective Kevlar leather jumpsuit showcased her assets in a good light.

"I hope so." muttered Tony as she left, following Maria to the jets. Bruce Banner was more than the average man, though, and Tony had his doubts.

* * *

Coulson supplied her with constant coordinates as she slipped through the Indian city. She was no smooth-flowing predator like Natasha, but kept to the shadows as best she could. Natasha would be like a whisper of silk across the dirt; her footprints would be nonexistent. Cori's could be seen, but not consistently. Every now and then she forgot about being extremely careful, and stepped harder than she meant.

The little girl had been paid off and instructed to wait ten minutes before approaching her target. Coulson estimated that Cori needed no more time than that to reach the rendezvous point. She made it, heart pounding as cold sweat began to coat her skin, and sat silently in a partially concealed chair. Natural shadows and the dimly lit nature of the room gave her a decent hiding space. Watching the little girl blitz through the room and out the back window was her only warning.

She could barely hear heavier male footsteps over the nervous thudding of her own heart.

"Should've got paid up front, Banner." sighed the male voice tiredly.

"You don't sound irritated. Maybe I still have a chance." mused Cori as she stood and moved to the middle of the room. The man turned on her, nearly stopping her heart. _This _was the guy they'd been desperately hunting for years? He looked as dangerous as a starving, wet kitten! Bruce stood perfectly still, the picture of calm as he locked the tips of his fingers together.

His cheeks and chin were dusted by a hint of facial hair. Cori watched it for any sign of change in his mouth. Dr. Banner's lips were perfectly neutral as he eyed her. She couldn't tell if he was disappointed because of the empty chase, or because of her presence. The rumor circulating around SHIELD was that Banner liked his privacy.

That he would do what was necessary to maintain it.

Bruce had faced countless government agents. She was the most deceptive of them all. He was used to facing off with trained killers. He was used to staring into cold, focused eyes. Her eyes were neither cold nor overly focused.

They were deep green, not unlike The Other Guy's skin. Her face was readable, a far cry from the stoic hunters typically tracking him. Bruce still kept his guard about him, though. Baby-faced or not, she was dressed like an agent. Bruce wouldn't deny that the flattering leather caught his eye.

Part of him was analyzing her for the sake of looking at a healthy woman. The other part of him was searching for any loose threads or bulky clips. Either would be prime for The Other Guy to use. Experience had taught him that ruining suits left agents fumbling for a few crucial moments. He needed only minutes to get away.

Seeing a healthy woman was rare in India. Bruce was used to being surrounded by the sick, the bony, and the dying. She was pale and curvaceous. Her hair was pulled back and loosely wound in something resembling a bun, but Bruce could tell it was plentiful, thick, and glossy. Her hair, alone, was proof of good health.

"A chance for what?" Bruce dared to ask, folding the arms of his glasses between his fingers. He slowly circumvented the wooden table, buying himself thinking time. To run now or hear her out? She didn't look to have any strength. _I can get past her,_ Bruce decided_, I just need to worry about the company she's brought_.

"To ask for your help." Coriander replied. Bruce was taken aback by her honesty. He narrowed his eyes, unable to help himself. Cori steeled herself, sensing suspicion. They warned her that he could be volatile, but that's why the armed shooters were waiting outside.

"No offense," he offered her his best, shiest smile, "but people like you don't _ask_. Where are your weapons?" Bruce drew a little closer as he slipped on his glasses. The leather fit like a glove; he trusted the available lighting to expose hidden weapons. His eyes mapped the swell of her breasts, meandering down her flat stomach and lean thighs.

"I don't have any." Coriander spun slowly, counterclockwise to his curious prowl. "I hate guns. I hate the loud noise. And knives…well, I was tired of getting patched up." she shrugged, shifting her weight to throw her hips to the left. It gave Bruce a good view of her empty gun holster. The idea that she would give him the benefit of the doubt, that she would treat him as a human being, was comforting. It was also stupid, he thought.

As the older one between them, as the world traveler, as the scientist living with a large green curse, he knew that was also incredibly stupid. "So you came in here," Bruce took off his glasses to wave them as he spoke, massaging the bridge of his nose as he struggled to make sense of it all, "completely unarmed?'

"Yep."

"You chose to do so even when you knew about me…about The Other Guy?"

"Yep."

She was so candid! It was frustrating. Bruce Banner was envious about her lack of fear concerning his alter ego. The young woman didn't seem to consider anything but him. In a "see no evil, hear no evil" kind of way, she didn't seem to recognize The Other Guy unless it was necessary.

He appreciated that.

And yet he found himself saying, "Do you know how dangerous that is?" she was a young thing. Maybe even tricked into finding him. It was his duty as the older man, as the scholar, as the one hardened by real life, to show her the dangers of the world. Even if one of those dangers were within him. While he didn't plan to show her deliberate harm, he did intend to send a message to the agency looking for him.

Don't send more people, he wanted to say. Certainly don't send women. Normally only men confronted him. The women chasing him were powerful, abandoning any sense of femininity for the mission. She wasn't like those women. Nope. Under the dim lighting, standing against the backdrop of such a rundown, dirty setting, the girl was all femininity.

And Banner noticed. So did The Other Guy.

_WANT_, said The Other Guy from the back of Banner's mind. Bruce was just beginning to remember how much time had passed without such touch when he made himself known. He swallowed. "Of course." she blinked casually. "But if I want you to trust me, I need to treat you like a human being. You're not a monster, and people forget that. They get wrapped up in the instinct to protect themselves."

"I'M NOT A MONSTER?" Bruce used his loudest voice as he slammed his fists down on the table, "A RADIATED FREAK ISN'T A MONSTER? THEN WHAT AM I?" she jumped, as he expected. Bruce imagined she would've drawn a weapon if she had one. "I'm sorry." he straightened after a few seconds, adopting his previous demeanor, "I had to see how you'd react."

"I jumped." hissed Coriander as her heart dropped back into her breast. Bruce watched her wide eyes gradually shrink into something human. "I think that's what a lot of people would do." she breathed.

"Maybe, but you were still scared. That fear is exactly why I can't trust myself around others, government or not. I'll have to decline your offer." Bruce told her.

"Um, you just shouted at random! I hate loud noises! That's why I don't carry a gun, remember? And you should at least entertain me since you yelled, I think." Coriander crossed her arms sassily across her chest. Bruce allowed himself to grin. She was saucy, and a bit childish. Bolder than any unarmed person he recalled.

"I'll entertain you on one condition." Bruce was quick to point at her. He was going to trap her. Thus far she'd been honest. Banner was fixing to see how tricky his situation actually was. "Tell me the truth: are we alone?"

She hesitated, and that was all the answer he needed. He scowled, breezing away with firm steps. A fleeting look of regret creased her features. Bruce's eyes absently lingered on the way she chewed her lip as he tuned his ears for any sound of approaching footsteps or the cocking of guns. Pushing against the little wooden swing eased his nerves; it generated a small breeze while occupying his rage.

"I knew it!" he growled, soon adopting the stance of someone disheartened, "I don't always get what I want, even when I'm dangerous and purposefully isolate myself for the safety of others." he mused dryly. The little swing rocked faster. Cori listened to the creaking echo in the room.

"Well what _do _you want? I'm sure SHIELD would be willing to work something out if they need you as bad as they say."

What did he want? Several ideas popped into Bruce's head: uninterrupted isolation, money, better equipment for his patients. A kiss, just to remember what human contact with a female was like.

"What does SHIELD need me for?"

"They won't tell me. I don't think I have the clearance to know. Either that, or they don't think I could handle the truth." it was probably for the best, Cori reasoned. She knew she had an overactive imagination. "But, regardless of what they do or don't tell me, it's my job to bring you in. I'll ask again, Dr. Banner, what do you want?"

_WANT_, Hulk grumbled again. Bruce barely felt his feet carrying his body towards her. He could feel the animal coursing through his veins. Instead of telling her to leave, his throat constricted to push a guttural noise out. It could pass for something agitated and pensive, so he wasn't totally alarmed. Banner hoped she would get a gut sensation and escape the room before he reached her, but that was not the case.

She held herself unflinchingly straight, but backed up as he progressed. Bruce felt his hand settle on the wooden wall. His nostrils were filled with the scent of her. The young woman smelled slightly sweaty and boasted hints of a perfume with lavender in it. Her heart cantered; Bruce relished the feel of the flutter through the leather as their chests touched.

"One kiss." he whispered almost imploringly, "that's all."

Cori's lips trembled as she inhaled his fragrance. He smelled of spices and muskiness. A kiss was harmless, right? "Then you'll come, right? No fuss, no muss?"

"Yes." Banner promised.

Their lips touched. Bruce barely moved, letting his body absorb the sensation of another mouth. She was soft…so soft. Her lips were slightly chapped from the Indian heat, and his nose brushed moist skin, but he didn't care. His thumbs drifted up to brush against her high cheekbones, letting The Other Guy feel her.

She was delicate, something The Other Guy and his inner male loved. His left thumb fell down the column of her throat, stopping over the strong pulse. The young woman wasn't in danger of tachycardia, but she certainly didn't have a normal pulse rate. Was she excited? Did he excite her?

How long had it been since _that _happened?

Inspired, Bruce allowed himself to suckle her lower lip. Coriander's reverie was broken by the concerned chatter in her ear. Bruce could hear it, too, and took the device from her ear. He crushed it with ease, making it obvious that nothing would disturb the either of them. It may seem possessive, but she hadn't broken away yet.

He took that as a sign that she didn't want to, either.

Coriander felt her heart going out to this guy, and it wasn't because he was a fantastic kisser. It wasn't because the slight scratch of his beard was sexy. It was the _way_ he kissed. Dr. Banner wasn't invasive; his kiss was light and constant. His mouth pulled hers into his, only slightly letting her lips go before reclaiming them again.

He kissed like a lonely man. And it was sad because he seemed to worship her mouth. His technique was incredibly gentle. It belied the monster-sized reason SHIELD wanted him for. Bruce broke away, burning lungs demanding air.

She gasped in time with him, chest heaving in the uniform. His hand slid from the wall to wind deep into her hair. Bruce could undo the bun with a flick of his fingers. He wanted to. It would make her look more raw and disheveled. The Other Guy liked raw and disheveled.

"One more?" Bruce reasoned that he deserved at least one more. One for each side of him. One more for every year of gamma radiation expertise, even, as that would require more kissing. The itch to have her welled up within him; lust burned through his veins like they were nothing more than firewood. "One more." he was negotiating now instead of asking, nuzzling her neck, tempting her with small pecks across her collarbone.

"One more," she agreed. "But then you have to come to SHIELD."

Bruce staggered out nearly an hour later, ignoring the broken rings of armed shooters. His swollen lips were the only real indication of foolery. Rumpled clothes and wild hair was common in the village he worked in. He followed her like she was the pied piper. "Welcome to SHIELD, Dr. Banner." Coriander said with a sigh of relief as she fixed the last errant strand and strapped herself in.

He grinned. Welcome indeed.


	18. The Tools of Examination

We Need to Quit Meeting like This

* * *

**AN: **Thanks to Maymayliu, Ravenclaw Slytherin, amy, Hefi, Miko Hayashi, and ThoughtlessRage for reviewing. My schedule is crazy because this semester is almost done. My parents are nagging me to look at universities, etc. It's also crazy because of Florida-Georgia this weekend (somehow I got nominated to be the babysitter. Not sure how that happened).

Anyhoo, this suggestion came from **Miko Hayashi**. Contains smut and Hulk dominance via the use of Bruce Banner's body. I see your contribution, amy. I don't know, though…it kind of sounds like "Persuasion Tactics".

Also, thinking about writing a first person/general/reader friendly booklet of oneshots about the Avenger males (even Loki, because evil needs love. Maybe not Fury or Coulson, though.) I don't know what to call it yet, but I've been thinking about it. Hefi unknowingly put the notion into my head when they wrote: "I wouldn't mind getting a few kisses from Bruce-y boy, Thor and Tony." well…that just might happen (Fanfiction doesn't allow "you-based/second person", they didn't say anything about _first _person!). It'll give me practice in being vague (to the reader's appearance) but descriptive (in terms of the Avenger male's action).

It would help me practice for upcoming Tony, Hawkeye, Loki and Thor stories, too. So, feel free to throw out title suggestions and prompts for that. Just be sure to name the Avenger male you want for the prompt (state the universe you want, too, such as MARVEL U or just the _Avengers_ movie setting – I wouldn't be against a suggested rating, either. Fluff? More than fluff? etc.).

I was thinking something silly and cheesy like: _Initiative: Romance_. In fact, it's going to be _Initiative: Romance_. Start sending in your prompts!‼ If I get a good prompt, I'll try to post the first chapter **tonight**.

When you make a suggestion, say what theme or idea you want, the Avenger male you want, and the nature of the piece (G to lightly smutty like this one).

* * *

The Tools of Examination

"Thanks for letting me do this, Cori." Bruce smiled appreciatively, hoping he didn't come off looking like a lecher since she was in a paper gown.

"Not a problem, Bruce. Pepper's been hounding me to get one of these, anyways."

"You sure you still want to do it?"

"It'd be better than going to Pepper's gynecologist, according to her. She doesn't think I'll be able to handle her technique since this is my first one. You need someone who knows about The Other Guy anyhow." she pointed out.

"That's true." Bruce nodded, motioning for Cori to put her legs into the footrests. She nervously did so, beginning to realize how awkward this was. Cori trusted Bruce. He was like a polite extension of Tony, one she could ask things of without playful smartass-ness and the impending feeling of being blackmailed. Still, it was _Bruce _looking at her most intimate parts!

Cori's luck had finally run out, and she could no longer avoid seeing a gynecologist. Bruce was certified in matters of gamma radiation, but sought to expand his medical knowledge in case he traveled to dilapidated villages again. Most third-world places were poor due to an uncontrollable population. Some had babies because they thought breast-feeding would help the ones who'd outgrown it; others had children because it was part of the culture. He'd read and passed the book aspect of the certification, but wanted a practice girl before performing his first exam in front of a licensed practitioner.

Pepper was out of the question because she had a gynecologist. That, and he didn't want to look at Tony's girlfriend. Natasha took care of herself in that department, and Bruce didn't know if he wanted to get that close to her. Though it was absolutely childish and ridiculous, he imagined some fearsome creature lived in Natasha's nether regions – it was as calculating and ruthless as she was, he betted. The remaining candidate was Coriander.

She looked like an especially _good _candidate after Pepper learned she'd never had a pelvic exam at twenty-one, the standard age when they were supposed to begin. Cori was currently twenty-six, and it was Bruce's and Pepper's opinion that she should get one. So, here they were. He'd given her pamphlets and shown her websites on what to expect, but that wasn't helping anything. Not for him, at least.

There was no website to help the _doctor_ prepare. _I'm looking at her. INTIMATELY looking at her._ Bruce kept realizing, trying not to stare between her legs to the exposed patch of tender pink flesh. It made him slightly nervous and more embarrassed than a man of his age should be. "Do you want a…well, we don't have a nurse, per se. Would you like Pepper to stand in with you?" Bruce asked, getting his mind back on track to the professionalism that would be required of him.

"God no!" Cori shook her head quickly. "I don't need you _and _Pepper looking at me!" Bruce chuckled softly. He was slightly relieved that it was as awkward for him as it was her.

"I'm going to ask you some questions and I'd like for you to answer them to the best of your ability, okay?" Bruce was set up in Stark Tower. Tony had a room clean and vacant enough to pass as a gynecologist's office. They had to make the chair from scraps, but Bruce didn't mind. Anything to ease his nerves was welcome. A fake chart full of papers he may need to fill out as a gynecologist was gripped firmly in his hand.

"You probably know all of this already, Bruce." she teased. He grinned slightly.

"I might." he joked. Cori wasn't fond of hospitals since Tony's patch job on her brain. Bruce was viewed as someone safe and familiar. The most awkward part – talk of her period – wasn't bad. Women in Stark Tower were hardly quiet about their time of the month.

Natasha and Pepper were often the warning system when Cori had her period, just as Clint, Pepper, and Cori were when it was Natasha's turn. He'd seen Cori at her worst when she was exhausted and snappish like a dragon. This, by default, should bring him no fear. But, it did. He feared that she'd interpret meticulous inspection as some type of fondling.

He feared he'd lose control. Hulk was far more primal than him, and operated on a different level. The Other Guy had different triggers and abilities that varied from his human host's. One of those abilities was an acute sense of smell, Bruce knew. Cori's feminine scent threatened to saturate the room. His tenuous control was already crumbling.

She failed to move, to do anything to excite those hormones she exuded, but they were steadily working on his nerves. Each heartbeat created a new wave for him to smell. Her propped up legs were like a taunting gateway. The white sheet hiding her hips and stomach was the lock, and all Bruce had to do was lift it to gain access. _I'm not going to last_, he frowned, rubbing his thumb and pointer finger lightly across his forehead.

"Forget something, Bruce?"

"N-no." he stammered, shaking his head.

"Headache?" Cori ventured.

"No." Bruce couldn't begin to explain to her. How awkward would that be? He could feel Hulk sitting on his mind, clawing forward as if to situate his weight at the front of Bruce's mind. That would put his face into her legs, and he couldn't allow that. On both an ethical level and a personal level.

His concept of what was appropriate and wasn't kept Hulk at bay. Barely. While Bruce secretly admitted there was something appealing about his unspoken idea, he couldn't let it happen. It was just _wrong_, and Hulk needed to learn he couldn't have everything! "Should we take a break? That'd probably be best for you." Cori remarked from the chair.

Best was awfully close to "breast". Oh hell! He forgot the breast exam! While most younger women didn't need it, gynecologists didn't always have young patients. This was quickly and obviously becoming a bad idea. He couldn't think straight, not when they were in this position. Not when he was in a position of power that she trusted.

Not when he wasn't the only one in control of himself. Hulk's presence was constant but soft, like he was currently content with merely watching. At times he intensified, surging forward with a thought or certain touch, but he never came out. It was like he was…biding his time. Bruce was on edge, waiting to be thrown to the back of his own mind.

He could feel it coming, and noticed the slightest signs of control in the way his fingers trembled.

"We'll do the breast exam and then the pelvic exam. I'll check for any irregularities, then show you how to do a breast self-exam." Bruce explained.

"If you have breasts you're a very small A-cup, Dr. Banner." grinned Cori. Bruce smiled, but rolled his eyes. Swallowing, he pushed aside the paper gown. Cori blushed, turning her green eyes skyward as his rough hand closed around her right breast and began to prod for any unusual developments. His fingers were callused but gentle, and Cori shivered.

He always ran a little warm on account of the Hulk. She wondered if the heat of his hands were enough to expand the blood vessels in her breasts. Wouldn't that make something weird happen to her bosoms, if only temporarily? Everything about this was awkward, but part of her – most of her – was glad this was happening with Bruce. Better him than some real pervert.

Everything shuddered in Bruce. There was no way to describe how breasts felt after such a long time. He fully intended to remove his hands, to give her a clean bill of health, but couldn't. The Other Guy had his fingers curled firmly around the flesh.

_WANT THIS. NOT DONE._

_You can't have. This is unprofessional! Stop that so I can get back to the exam!_

_HULK STRONGER THAN PUNY BANNER! HULK ALPHA MALE! HULK GET WHAT HULK WANT, AND HULK WANT FEEL!_

Bruce stifled an audible groan as his brows drew together. Hulk could give him a hell of a headache if he wanted, and he did. Banner felt like he'd just been thrown against the wall of his own mind, and was now sliding down, dazed, to the floor. It was a hell of a mental experience. The impact seemed more than psychological, and he snapped his head to the left as he went "flying" into said wall.

This didn't go unnoticed by Cori. "Bruce, you okay?" she was answered by a pair of familiar green eyes. Cori pursed her lips slightly. She never turned Hulk away, but didn't think he should come out in this particular situation. They had a slight understanding – he would let Bruce stay in control where he was needed, and Bruce would go to the Smash Room to let him out.

Sometimes, though, Hulk broke that agreement. Now was such a time. "I think you need to let Bruce finish up. We can talk after that, alright?" Cori looked at him tentatively. The angle of the chair was perfect for resting and viewing him where he stood in Banner's body beside her feet.

"Not after!" Hulk shook his head, tone similar to an impatient child. "Hulk want now! And Hulk get because Hulk alpha male. Banner not alpha male." said Hulk.

She could only assume he and Bruce were arguing again. Or that he'd been neglected. Aside from emerging in Bruce's times of stress, Hulk came out when he was tired of being contained. Sometimes he came out when Banner kept referring to himself as a monster. In an aggravated and almost spiteful way, Hulk would lash out as if to show Banner the true definition of a monster.

Cori could see both sides of the coin, as she didn't live with the condition. Hulk kept Bruce from dying. Steeled him against things that would kill a normal man, and yet, Bruce only saw it as a curse. That had to hurt Hulk, and she knew it did. "What does Hulk want?" Cori asked.

Bruce's hands flexed. His chest began to rapidly inflate and deflate as he snorted. Hulk knew what he wanted to say, but couldn't correctly order the words. He was getting frustrated. Something would be smashed if he continued doing this for much longer.

"Easy, easy. Just say what comes to mind. Don't try to blurt it all out. Take it in pieces." offered Cori. The fist unwound as Hulk nodded absently.

"Hulk want...Hulk want things for Bruce. Things for Hulk. Hulk want not feel like monster. Want for Bruce to feel like person. Hulk want love like everyone else – _Tony _think Hulk should get love like everyone else, and Tony smart like Bruce, so Hulk know that Hulk right to want that! Hulk too big, though."

Oh, so that's what it was? Cori could understand. People weren't exactly lining up to be with a man who could turn green and swing a building like a baseball bat. "I love you." she assured, inviting him in for a hug. He hesitantly approached.

"Cori not just say that to get Bruce back?"

"Have I ever done that?"

"No." mumbled Hulk almost guiltily.

"I love you _and _Bruce." she pulled his face closer to kiss his cheek. Hulk nuzzled against her cheek, bending over to rest against her collarbone. Cori was always nice. She wanted him when no one else did.

"Banner and Hulk love Cori, too. Banner just stupid and won't say."

"He's not stupid," defended Cori. She wouldn't let Banner call him a monster, so it was only fair she not let Hulk call him stupid. "Bruce is just worried about what other people will say. An older man and a younger woman being together isn't totally common."

"And that why Bruce not alpha male. Hulk bigger, stronger! Hulk not afraid! Hulk like Cori and Hulk say so!"

"Is that what this was about, telling me you loved me?"

"No." Hulk shook his head. His brows creased in confusion. "Yes! And Hulk want take so no more males get. Banner won't let Hulk smash puny drink-man Pepper talk about. Puny drink-man not take what belong to Banner and Hulk!"

"You're still mad about that bartender thing?"

"HULK WANT SMASH!"

"Right. Stupid question." Cori chuckled. "When you mean take, what are you talking about?"

Hulk fidgeted slightly. "Take…so no one else take. Take so others know Cori belong to Hulk. No males mess with Cori no more, not when they know Cori is Hulk's. Hulk protect." he promised. Now she understood in the full. Hulk was primal, and saw everything as a constant competition with surrounding males. "Taking her" meant leaving his mark; he wanted to establish his dominance and possession in the same way that people established themselves as a couple.

"I see." this was an incredibly awkward place to be having such a conversation. And yet, Hulk didn't seem to care. It wasn't _in_ him to care. His candidness was beginning to make her forget where they were.

"Cori let Hulk take, then?"

"If Cori let Hulk take, will he let Banner come back? People will look for Banner and Cori if they take too long, you know."

"Hulk let Banner out after." nodded Hulk.

"Take, then." Cori was expecting some passionate kiss. Her mind had been saturated with romance novels and cheesy movies. She sat up slightly, shocked, and watched Hulk walk back towards her open thighs. The slight nervousness running through her made her hyperaware. He flicked green eyes to her before pulling the sheet off her form, sitting in the chair and snuggling his face between her thighs.

Hulk wasn't one for patience, and delved in with vigor immediately. Cori yelped and lunged forward. Bruce kept his fingers locked around her ankles, holding them to the footrests as his tongue worked against her moist, quivering flesh. She saw stars dance before her eyes as she trembled, unaccustomed to such attention or intensity. Her stomach clenched like the rest of her, squeezing together in glee at the sounds coming from his mouth.

He sounded like a gluttonous man savoring his favorite dish. The feel of him was totally foreign. Hulk licked passionately, face and body rocking with the upward motion of his tongue. His tongue seemed to coat her nether region in unquenchable flames of lust. Everything in her burned with anticipation.

He nipped the pulsating flesh, pulling it back and releasing it once she made the noise he desired. Her body was like an instrument for his teeth and tongue to play. His tongue was the practiced conductor coaxing notes from her. She mewled for him, muscles tightening as her orgasm approached. The flow of her juices increased, and Hulk lapped up every drop.

Banner was good for knowledge and speaking. That was about it. But, because of him, Hulk knew women had longer orgasms. The desire to claim her, to sate his baser needs overtook him. He pulled his tongue out of the addicting tightness, ripping Bruce's pants to free the hard length springing up eagerly from the zippered confines.

Hulk clambered atop her, wasting no time. He wanted to feel that tightness consume Bruce's flesh. This was the only way anything could ever happen. It didn't matter, though, because this way was safest. This way left him _and_ Bruce satisfied. That hadn't happened in quite some time.

She didn't have time to complain, to give into her dazed state, or ask if he was finished. Hulk slipped over her with purpose. He radiated heat, causing her to explode in goose flesh. Cori was surrounded by sureness and rough, meaningful touch. The Other Guy grabbed at her feverishly, like she'd disappear otherwise.

His lips fell sloppily and hungrily over any inch of skin he could reach. The rhythm of his hips was enough to shake the chair. Cori was pinned under his ecstasy and fervor, and didn't mind. Hulk used the tightness of her walks, the slickness of her orgasm, to propel himself deep inside of her. He didn't last long, not with the heat and the tightness.

He leaned into her. She combed fingers through his hair, rubbing his back. Hulk milked the interaction to the fullest extent. Being with her as Banner was so much easier than being with her as himself. There were less complications. It was a better fit.

Bruce was able to take his place as the endorphins and languidness set in. He was dazed, listening to his breath even out atop her chest. The doctor lifted his head, chin brushing her paper gown-hidden breasts. "Congratulations," he murmured, "you have no gynecological problems."


	19. Intentions

We Need to Quit Meeting like This

* * *

**AN:** I'm not dead, I'm not dead! Just scrambling to tie up a few projects before school ends. Thanks to Hefi, Drachegirl14, amy, Maymayliu, and Miko Hayashi for reviewing.

To Maymayliu: You're right! I didn't do the wedding one. I'll add that one back to the list.

This prompt of a jealous Bruce came from Maymayliu. I'll admit I LOVE this prompt, but I had to be delicate about it. Crafting something with a jealous Bruce is like making a cake – you have to get it _just_ right (and I had to find something believable for him to be angry over. Something that wouldn't cause him to Hulk out right away.)

Couldn't decide whether or not to do this in MARVEL U, or just the normal storyline. Ultimately, I picked the normal storyline. I like that dynamic better. Bruce might come off as creepy here, but he's creepy in the protective-older-good-friend way.

* * *

Intentions

The slightly bug-eyed look of wonderment Tony gave him was starting to piss him off. Bruce tried to ignore it, pushing his glasses up on his nose. And yet, he couldn't. The unspoken question of: _how are you doing?_ hung in the air. He'd asked Cori to call it quits, to stay on the safe side of the line and keep their relationship in the 'platonic, good friends' category.

It was hard, considering she was one of the first ones he felt could cross that line with safety. The Other Guy didn't seem explosive around her like he did Betty. And yet, Bruce could only think of the looming, inevitable repercussions brought on by dating someone like him. He proposed that damning idea with the best of intentions. If he didn't seem interested in her, if he didn't appear to appreciate her openness and unflinching acceptance, she wouldn't want to stay nearby.

If she didn't stay nearby, she couldn't get hurt. By his enemies _or _the public, who would surely speak against a relationship with over a decade of difference between partners. Bruce thought it was for the best, even if it didn't feel that way. Once he told Cori 'no', and she respected that, things got worse for the good doctor. Some small part of him knew she'd half-heartedly drift to other men – who would stay around where they're not wanted? – but he liked to think she'd stand there waiting for him, anyways.

Even monsters deserved their mushy, romantic moment.

Bruce had hoped she would stay around. He saw her – it was hard not to when they both lived with Tony – but she made sure to keep things formal. That hurt, and he kept reminding himself that it was his own fault. Her attempts at being happy and casual were lame. Coriander held the same disappointed light in her eyes that he recognized in the mirror. Such a sight made his heart flutter with hope, as sick as it was.

She was still waiting on him. Still hoping he'd change his mind and come back. They'd connected on so many levels – doctor and patient, housemates, inquisitive younger woman and a learned, older man – and he'd severed nearly all of those ties with a mere word. The realization was enough to keep him on edge in his waking moments. Tony and Pepper knew this; they were being especially careful of annoying him.

He tried to bury himself in lab work. Occasionally, it would do the trick. Most of the time Pepper would be too busy to check on him or Cori would do it out of habit. When she left Bruce would fall into the cycle of: _stupid! What the HELL were you thinking?_ and _It's for the best. I promise you. I know you don't see it that way, but I do. I'm older. I'm wiser. I know what he's capable of_ all over again. Bruce was under a great deal of stress; asking Cori to step back and assume the role of 'friend' was like going cold turkey on the only feminine affection he'd had since Betty.

The sudden loss was enough to shock him. Bruce hadn't realized how dependent and _used_ to her nature he'd become. He wanted it back, but he couldn't just _ask_ to have everything the way it was. She'd been hurt, and he knew that. It would take time.

"Tony, I'm—oh." Cori stepped back from the automatic door slightly. She'd half-expected Bruce to be emerging for food. He should've been, anyways. He hadn't eaten since noon, and it was ten now. Coriander rubbed the back of her neck. "I'm…uh, I'm leaving now."

"Got your phone?"

"Yes."

"Is it charged?"

"_Yes_, Tony." Coriander frowned slightly. She was twenty-six; he was not her father!

"Is he meeting you there or—"

"I'm taking a cab." she answered.

"Oh, well…have fun, I guess." Tony turned back to the lab table, nudging a pen away from Bruce. The one in his hand had already cracked open.

"Bye guys."

A small silence settled. Bruce could appreciate that they didn't openly talk about Lyle. The absence of his name didn't help keep his pulse in check, however. He knew who she was going to meet. Lyle was a twenty-six-year-old _asshole_ – so he assumed, because Cori hardly had anything good to say about men her age – that met her by accident.

She was going to cash her last check from Starbucks and he was cashing _his _check. The young man was from across the pond – Bruce didn't care to know where, exactly – and had come to the states for a business position. They weren't serious enough for Coriander to bring him over, thank goodness. This was actually their first nighttime date.

"You know…" Tony mopped at the ink stain idly. Bruce's veins were obvious between his greening skin. "They're going to Ma Cherie if you want to, uh, make a last stand or anything." he offered helpfully.

"I don't _do _last stands, Tony." Bruce grumbled.

"He sure as hell might. Do you want to take that chance, Bruce? Think about it. They're going to a _wine _and _fine dining _restaurant. Most guys make small talk long enough for their dates to drink a few glasses and then it's game over for the ladies." warned Tony. He would know. Before Pepper that was one of his famous tactics.

That was unacceptable. Tony had pushed a very sensitive button and he _knew _it.

Coriander hardly had intentions like that, though. She was very reserved with her intimacy. How many times had she told him that it was nice to have a considerate, older man to reach the milestones with? Too many for him to count, and he'd thrown it all away for his own sense of safety. Her intentions, he knew of – she was likely biding her time or investigating to see if this man would lessen the ache he saw etched on her face.

Lyle's intentions? He couldn't be sure of those. Bruce couldn't uphold the 'considerate, older man' standard she held him to if he didn't investigate this for himself. It was a man's job to protect the woman from threats.

"I have an idea…if you're interested." Tony murmured lightly with a hint of mischievousness as he spun a screwdriver casually on its tip.

"I'm listening…"

* * *

"You look lovely, darling." smiled Lyle brightly. His coppery-sandy blonde hair was nicely combed, his bangs turned upwards and jelled into little peaks. Coriander started lightly. She wasn't expecting a kiss on the cheek. A hug, maybe, but not a kiss.

Was it just her or did he press up against the front of her dress? _I think I'm imagining things_, Cori told herself. Her dress was a rich jade color that accented her creamy skin well. She'd bought a halter-style dress with the hope that it would make her feel sexy. That it would spur some new chapter of her life that would make Bruce Banner irrelevant, but it wasn't.

She just felt self-conscious and slightly cold walking into the upscale restaurant. They were seated in a booth with a brown backing and nude-colored cushion. It matched the neutral theme of the restaurant. The napkins – a bright purple – were a colorful surprise that went well with the ceramic plates and shade of wine the waiter poured. Coriander rubbed the corner between her fingers before unrolling it to toy with the silverware.

Bruce liked purple. It was a color he could pull off fairly well. She sipped the wine, not really tasting it. _I'm going to be stuck on Bruce for a while_, she fretted. It was true.

"So, how was your day?" inquired Lyle chattily. Coriander looked up, taking in his black suit, white undershirt, and khaki-gray tie. He was too young for such a serious look. Lyle still had a baby faced look to him that made the suit seemed stuffy, even for the restaurant. _Bruce could pull it off_, Cori thought almost haughtily.

Bruce didn't need much to seem polished. His personality and brilliance alone was enough. Putting him in a buttoned-down shirt or slightly buttoned shirt with a nicely folded collar was just icing on the cake. Like his glasses, it only accented his gentlemanly nature. "Uneventful," replied Cori at last. "You?"

She tried to listen, she really did. It was just _hard_. Cori didn't _want_ to hear from Lyle…she wanted to hear from _Bruce_! All they'd been able to manage were awkward, stilted conversations of politeness. They'd hadn't spoken freely in weeks.

It hurt. And it made seeing him strange because that level of relaxedness wasn't there anymore. "Your complementary breadsticks." said the waiter, setting a steaming basket of bread down. "And a side of Alfredo sauce for the lady."

"She didn't ask for Alfredo, mate." smiled Lyle. The young man took a closer look. "Wasn't someone else supposed to be our waiter?" Coriander looked up at that. She found herself staring into an amused if not slightly peeved Bruce Banner's face. His lips puckered slightly in a silent, impish _shh!_

She did so, grinning slightly. It was like being in on an elaborate joke. Cori found herself blushing a little, surprised that Bruce would show up – much less impersonate one of the staff – when they were supposed to be _platonic_. Maybe this was his intention all along? To pretend like they were going back to friends so he could perform some clever woo tactic?

"I'm aware, sir." Bruce thought quickly on his feet. He'd had to in the years he'd evaded the government. "But a recent survey shows that most guests request Alfredo after receiving the breadsticks. As a new policy we've decided to bring it to the table. We'll readily exchange it for another compliment if it's not preferred."

"I-it's fine. Thank you." Cori broke off a piece of the breadstick and dipped it. Bruce remembered her obsession with Alfredo! She was touched.

"And someone else _was _with you earlier, sir. He had an emergency." Bruce lied.

"Ah, well…are you ready to order?" Lyle looked over the menu to Cori. She shrugged. Places with pasta often left her ordering the same thing: chicken Alfredo. Coriander rarely deviated from that when facing the temptation of pasta.

"I'll have the filet mignon, please. Cooked medium-rare."

"And your side?"

"The steamed Asparagus, please."

_She's not going to kiss you_, Bruce laughed to himself. Coriander hated vegetables and seafood with a fiery passion. He doubted she'd break that hatred to kiss this man. Not when he reeked of cheap cologne.

"And for you, madam?"

"The chicken Alfredo, please. Some croutons would be nice, also."

"Croutons?" repeated Lyle teasingly. Coriander refused to blush. She wasn't ashamed of her choices! Croutons were good!

"My tastes were tweaked during the brain surgery, I think." she joked dryly.

"I wonder if any of your _other _tastes were tweaked."

_SMASH PUNY MAN'S FACE NOW! HULK WANT SMASH!_

But Bruce had nothing to beat him with. The waiter he'd thrust Tony's money at had slipped out quickly. Tony placed a call to the boss so Bruce wouldn't get discovered, but the only part of the uniform he was missing was the apron. In the waiter's apron was nothing but a pen, some change, and a notepad. _I can stab you with the pen…_he begrudgingly determined.

Taking off one of his black, polished shoes would do more damage. It was bigger. Lyle gazed at him over interlaced fingers, his cheek pressed into the knuckles of his right hand. "We're fine here, I think."

_You won't be for long_. Bruce excused himself and marched towards the kitchen. That man was a snake in disguise! He just had to prove it. Over the years he'd become a pretty good judge of character; having a primal entity like the Hulk sharing his mind made it nearly impossible to be wrong.

That man was a finely dressed bastard, and nothing more. Red flags were flying up and cartwheeling in the beast's mind. In Banner's mind. The flags warned of his territory being encroached on. They warned of a plot taking place to steal it from him.

That was unacceptable. Bruce brought out the dishes some twenty minutes later. He was pleased to find that Cori's wineglass wasn't empty. Lyle's was, and he asked for a refill. Coriander decided to catch Bruce and pull him aside…or try to.

He was nearly as busy as the true employees. Or was there just another man who looked like him from afar? She didn't know. Before Cori could ask to speak with him under the pretense of seeking employment for a friend, he was called away. Something about helping carry food out to a large party in the back.

Lyle's phone rang as she wondered what to do. "Oh…I, uh…" Lyle flushed, reaching timidly for his phone.

"Take it." insisted Cori. "I have to use the restroom." she didn't know where the hell it was. Hopefully she'd find Bruce before she found it (or before Lyle needed to use it, himself).

Slightly frazzled from the rapid transition – first he's handing out dishes, then he's running to grate cheese on salads. A lady flagged him down for a sweet tea refill and he had to get _that_ – Bruce approached the table. Cori wasn't there. _Oh god, _Bruce wanted to smack himself, _she's either looking for me or this guy is bad enough to make her ditch!_ It was the most uncoordinated, well-meaning, impulsive disaster of his _life_!

Pretending like he was going to overlook nearby tables, Bruce kept moving. Maybe he'd circle around and bump into her before Lyle got suspicious. She probably wanted some answers. _Hopefully I'll untangle this ball of emotions before I find her,_ Bruce frowned.

On the one hand, he missed her. On the other, he could turn into a giant, radiated freak capable of leveling Harlem. He wanted her safe and at arms' length, but he also wanted to hold her close. Contact and care was something rare for the doctor, and he felt that he'd found it with her after so many years of running.

"I'm with the girl, remember? No, the one that's got the messed up brain. Yeah it will! I'll blow what's left of her mind if I play my cards right." laughed Lyle.

Echolic resonance is the principle that explains how the human mind can process something and belatedly respond. It basically states that whatever is said lingers in the ear for about seven seconds. By then the mind has already chosen if it's important enough to log. Bruce Banner had just logged Lyle's entire statement.

And he was pissed.

The thread of control finally snapped. What felt like _months_ of walking on pins and needles was finally coming to an end. All of his stress and rage was about to be vented.

"BAD MAN! BAD MAN LEAVE! HULK SMASH!" his clothes had long since ripped like tissue paper. Buttons of the slimming black vest were gone. Probably in someone's salad or drink. Hulk pounded his fists on the ground, denting the carpeted floor and shaking the table. "NO HAVE! BELONG TO HULK! NO TAKE FROM HULK!"

"Someone help me!" Lyle pressed himself against the back of the booth.

"Call the police!"

"No, call the SWAT team!"

"Get Iron Man!"

"HULK!" Cori cried out. Hulk turned. He'd know that voice anywhere. She was the only one not saying anything mean about him, as usual. He tried to look guilty, but he was pissed.

That man had plans to…to _use_ her. To _defile _her without regard! Did he not know that she wanted her first time to be special, to mean something? Hulk did. He remembered.

It made him angry that Lyle wanted to sully her dream like that. His chest began to rapidly expand again, shuddering with his quick snorts. He wanted to _smash_! "Don't Hulk! Don't you do this. You know what it'll mean if you do. You told me you didn't want to run anymore."

Hulk shook his head fiercely. No more running. He was never running again. That would take him – them – away from her. His body swung lightly as his muscles twitched; Hulk wanted to do something, to express himself, but there was too much going on.

Banner was the one with words. Not him. Not in this situation.

"No want run." Hulk shook his head, fists bouncing off the floor as he paced clumsily. "Want…want smash! Want smash what left of man's mind!"

"What?" Coriander was honestly confused on that one. Hulk was trying to tell her about the phone call and Lyle knew it.

"It's crazy!" hissed Lyle. "Get away from it!"

"He's not _crazy_!" Cori growled. Hulk roared at Lyle.

"Man want take Cori." Hulk explained. "Not special. Man not special. That for Bruce. Man not care. Bruce care!"

"Is that what this is about?" Cori put her hand lightly on her hip. "Bruce and I talked, he said—"

"Not _care_ what Bruce said! Bruce change mind! Bruce want Cori come back!"

"Sounds like Bruce can suck—_ow_!" Coriander rubbed her fist lightly, scowling as Lyle bent over and held his nose. She stared up at Hulk, her green eyes alight with rage.

"Get _me _out of here before _I _smash!" she demanded. Grinning brightly, almost childishly, Hulk scooped her up. He cradled her in the crook of his neck as he stomped out of the building. Stark Tower was sturdy enough to hold him and high above the reach of any brave males. Hulk lay on his back, letting his heart finally slow.

They were safe. He relaxed.

"So…what happened to the whole 'You need to see someone else' thing?"

"I misspoke." Bruce murmured.

"I was expecting you to say it fell through due to unforeseen _jealousy_." she teased, offering him the first genuine smile he'd seen in weeks. Bruce grinned.

"That too, but that was my intention."


	20. Down on the Farm

We Need to Quit Meeting like This

* * *

**AN: **Thanks to kiwi8fruit, Maymayliu, and amy for reviewing the last chapter.

To kiwi8fruit: It seems interesting, but I don't quite understand what you mean. If you tell me the title of that story, I can look it up on A03 and get an idea for myself. I know a bit about writing the primal entity from my dabbling in _First Class_ with the new take on Beast xD.

To amy: You're not being pushy. I actually thought the idea of Hulk hiding in sunflowers was adorable. Especially since he's green. I can't draw, but if I could I'd have massive Hulk wearing yellow sunflowers around his head going 'SUNFLOWER SMASH!' just because that's the image I got in my head, haha.

This prompt is credited to amy (and it has not been proof-read).

* * *

Down on the Farm

Bruce was passing through Georgia, and had little to his name. Traveling light meant taking only enough food and water to hold him until he got to the next town. Sitting in diners wasn't always smart, as the waiter or waitress could be in on stalling him until the government arrived. He found himself stopped outside a small farmers market where people sat readily behind handmade, wooden stalls. Farmers typically produced much and pedaled their wares for an addictive price that ensured return business.

It certainly reeled _him _in. Bruce was torn between something small enough to stuff in his raggedy bag – like peaches or oranges – and something that held other uses (like tomatoes, which were acidic enough to use as a facial cleaner). He was about to pay for a pound of oranges when a sign caught his eye.

_Farmhand needed for one month!_

_Hours: 5 a.m. – 4 p.m. daily_

_Must be able to:_

_- Bale hay_

_- Feed chickens_

_- Milk cows_

_- Till and sow seeds_

_- Harvest crops_

_- Lift at least fifty pounds_

_Mechanical knowledge would be appreciated._

_Price can be discussed upon meeting._

_If interested please call Coriander Henson at (002) 295-8745_

Bruce bought a half-pound of oranges to make change for the payphone he'd seen at a quarter-mile before the entrance. _It'll get money coming in_, Bruce told himself. That was worth staying put for a month. The part of Georgia he'd happened upon seemed secluded and low-key enough to pause for rest.

_"Hello?"_ a young female voice asked. Bruce was mildly surprised. He'd half expected some older, incapable person to have placed the ad. _"Hello?"_

"Yeah, hi…um, I'm calling about the farmhand position?"

_"Great! Do you have any experience?"_

"A little." Bruce shuffled his feet nervously. He'd watched cows get milked in various third-world countries, and he knew the scientific process of baling hay. At the very least, Bruce _knew _he could help with machines. The fifty pound requirement was no sweat to him, not when he had The Other Guy.

_"Good. That's better than nothing. The working day's done, I'm afraid. We can meet tomorrow and discuss the smaller details if you like?"_ she offered.

And in came his embarrassment. Bruce had just arrived. He had no place of residence. This woman would likely be his only chance to room somewhere. He'd gladly work if it meant a place to stay.

Staying at a farm kept him off the grid; being off the grid was something he liked. It kept him from having to spend money and being logged on record at hotels. "I could do that, but I don't know if I'd be on time. I…um, I'm new to town—passing through, actually—and don't really have transportation or a place to stay."

_"Oh…"_ she sounded surprised, and maybe a bit put off.

_Please still take me, please still take me! _Bruce clutched the phone in a white-knuckled grasp.

_"Are you sure you want the job? Can I count on you to work?"_

"Absolutely!"

_"You're in the farmers market on Cottonwood, right?"_

"Yes." Bruce breathed before he'd really thought about it. He vaguely remembered the word cotton, and finding it amusing because the Farmer's market was on cottonwood. Cotton and wood were good things to sell in a country place like this.

_"I'll come get you, then. Five a.m. is an early start. You'll be more prepared for your first day."_

Bruce was mildly surprised, but had to remember he wasn't in a bustling city. Areas with plentiful trees and generous space between neighbors were usually very accommodating. "Th-thank you." he stammered. She hung up after telling him to wait by the entrance sign with her flyer in hand. The world-wise man within him wondered why she would offer to pick him up.

What if he was dangerous? He could pretend to be calling about help and rape her or murder her! Though she was technically his employer, Bruce decided he wasn't very happy with her decision. A red truck pulled up twenty minutes later. The door swung open, revealing a young, pale girl he assumed to be in her twenties.

If he was any other man, if he was _evil _and had ill intentions, she would definitely be in trouble. The young woman was slightly stained with dirt, and her black hair was slightly frizzy and undone as if she'd hurriedly thrown it into a bun, but she was still attractive. Her flannel shirt was unbuttoned to showcase a white tank top hugging supple bosoms. Patches of it were dirty with earth and sweat. Blue jean shorts squeezed toned legs that seemed to go on for miles until they ended at socks and beige work boots.

Bruce swallowed.

"Well…are you coming or not?" she put her hands on her hips, highly amused with his silence. Bruce climbed into the passenger side. "Name's Cori." said the young woman as she shifted the truck into drive and started back towards his future workplace.

"B-Bruce." he replied. It would definitely be easy to derail the truck and overpower her, he noticed. The thought was alarming. If he could do it, so could the government. They could hold her down and torture her for information about him.

It was almost enough to make him jump out of the truck. His stomach grumbled.

"So, what's your price going to be, Bruce?" Cori briefly flicked her green eyes to him. That growl hadn't gone unheard.

"Room and board would be alright…if you can accommodate, that is."

"I can. It's just me right now. That's why I need help. My parents are out on a month-long cruise to celebrate their twenty-fifth anniversary."

"Oh…I see."

"And, just to get this out of the way, I'll tell you what I told the last guy: don't grab me. I keep a taser on me at all times, and I'm not afraid to use it. If it's dead, don't touch me. I take dance and can get my foot into some _very_ painful places."

"Wh-what happened to the last guy?" Bruce almost didn't want to know. She chuckled.

"I told him I don't date young, stupid guys. He thought it would be cute to have some kind of boss-employee summer fling, anyways. He didn't think I was so cute after having to pack his nose with cotton and go to the hospital."

It was comforting to know she could hold her own. That meant less to worry about on his end, but not by much. The government was more than prepared when it came to him. They readily stocked tear gas, bullets, knives, and grenades.

"Well, I…I won't—" Bruce began to assure. It was vital she know he meant her no harm. Spooking her would leave him without shelter.

"I didn't think you would." she replied honestly. "You don't seem like the type."

Some twenty-five minutes later they started on a winding dirt path that led to a one-story wooden house panted a whitish-pink. It had a wooden front porch extension, two visible front windows, and wooden steps. To his right Bruce saw a small pen with a chicken coop and two rooting pigs. On his left, Bruce saw a rectangular, medium-sized barn off to the side, out in the distance. The massive, sprawling field of colorful vegetables and plant life was most captivating, though.

Sunflowers were at the very back of the plot; they towered over everything. The wall of yellow and green made the heads of lettuce and stalks of tomatoes easier to see. Cori seemed to have her own personal market! He was beginning to see why she hadn't been at the farmers market. She parked the vehicle and killed the engine, slipping out.

Bruce did the same. She invited him to the front porch, unlatching the small door-like gate. Before she could move to unlock the front door—which had a doggy door, Bruce noticed—a plump, yellow duck shot out. "Hey, Chickpea!" she smiled, scooping the quaking ball of fluff into her arms. He just stared.

The duck eyed him with dark, glittering eyes. It fluffed up slightly, neck sinking into its body. Bruce expected as much. Animals seemed to sense the animal hiding under the surface better than people did. Chickpea made a growl-like noise.

Would it be safe to stay here? he wondered. She stroked Chickpea's head; his little tail fluttered. "Don't worry about Chickpea. He's probably mad about Lady Purrington waking him up again."

"Lady Purrington?" Bruce couldn't help but tease. Cori flushed.

"I was, like, fourteen, okay? I thought it was cute." she defended. "Watch out for her, though. She's getting kind of cranky in her old age."

The door opened and a wispy-fluffy ball of grey fur bolted out. She was caterwauling and hissing. Bruce growled at the sensation of claws in his leg, and barely fought the urge to kick her off. "Bad Lady Purrington! _No_!" Cori set Chickpea down and started to pull at the adamantly attached feline. Chickpea assisted by nipping the cat's tail sharply.

Lady Purrington detached, lightning-fast, and popped Coriander and Chickpea. Hissing, she hung low to the floor and skittered off into the hallway at the right. Cori grumbling, patting the stinging cut on her cheek lightly. Chickpea merely shuddered. "Want something to eat? I'd just finished cooking when you called."

"Did I interrupt? I'm sorry." Bruce apologized.

"I just turned everything off. The chicken and noodles were done cooking, anyways. And the broccoli was in the microwave." Cori led him into a kitchen with linoleum flooring and a wrap-around counter that doubled as an island. Like the rest of the house, the kitchen was furnished in wood. It was sparsely furnished, but cozy. Stools were settled along the high counter, and Bruce took one as she set a plate of noodles, breaded chicken, and broccoli before him.

"Thanks." he mumbled shyly.

"Not a problem. Gotta feed you and keep you happy if you're gonna work for me, right?" she teased. _It's been a while since I was truly happy. I don't know if you can help that_, he thought. Bruce bit into the broccoli to keep his mouth shut. "That, and, well…I can't have you starved and weak!" Cori laughed. She wrapped a long noodle drenched in alfredo sauce around her fork, swallowing it. Mindful of her new guest and farmhand, Cori kept her gluttonous noises of delight to a minimum.

She couldn't help it! Alfredo was _delicious_! "Mmm…" Cori licked her lip. "I forgot to ask you if you wanted sauce for the noodles. I have a garlic butter sauce or alfredo."

"I'll take garlic butter, please." she moved to the fridge, pulled a container out, and popped it in the fridge. "Garlic's good for the heart, you know." Bruce couldn't help but add. He was an educator. It's what he did…how he functioned.

"I know. I like garlic. I like spices, too. I love spicy food in general, actually." Cori said idly.

"Spicy food is good." agreed Bruce. India had been one of his favorite places to live because of their generous use of spice. They returned to a quiet dinner. She was as nervous as him, Bruce could tell. At the same time, though, he was relaxed.

They were surrounded by miles of trees. The only way to the front door was up creaky steps and past a pigpen. If someone came, they would make a fuss. He'd have time to leave if he needed to. Small details like that helped him relax.

There was some small-talk throughout the meal, but not enough to make Bruce nervous. Cori asked small, casual things. Like what brought him to Georgia. Bruce couldn't exactly reply with, "I'm a radiated freak on the run from the government", so he settled for being a 'world traveler' type. It wasn't totally untrue. He'd been to several places over the years.

Cori showed Bruce to the guest bedroom after they finished eating. While she didn't have clothes to fit him, she allowed him to use the washer and dryer if he wanted. Bruce was in a pickle. How could he put his clothes in the wash if he only had one set? The genius was determined to get a shower, but couldn't think of a simple solution to his problem.

"I'll, uh, just stay in the kitchen while…you know…" Cori rolled her hands. _Oh. Oh good…_she was giving him permission to parade around in a towel. Long enough to put his clothes in the wash, at least. _Maybe this won't be so bad after all_, he mused.

When he finished his shower and quietly crept out to investigate the status of his clothes, Bruce found them rolling in the dryer. They weren't quite finished, he could tell. The older man hid himself behind the small wall that made the pocket of space where the laundry was done. A section of painted, finished wall separated it from the kitchen. He could hear her pawing through the cabinets, and he suspected she was searching for something to put on her wound.

The dryer beeped, startling him.

"I'm still turned." she promised. Bruce thought he'd been quiet. What, had she seen him coming? Did she stare? God he was mortified.

He pulled his clothes out of the dryer and slipped into them. Bruce was glad for his deft fingers as he did up the buttons in record time. Getting out of the kitchen and into his designated room would decrease the likelihood of embarrassment. His curls were still drying, and would likely be hellacious in the morning, but it was a small price to pay in the face of being clean and rooted for a brief amount of time. She was trying to peel an ointment-soaked band-aid from her fingers while trying to place it over the scratch.

Being a doctor, Bruce couldn't let her go unassisted. "May I?" he inquired.

"Sure." Cori was seconds away from flapping the thing off her finger and getting a new one. He grinned slightly at her childishness.

"If you put it on your pointer fingers, and let it stick to the tips instead of placing your whole pad on it, it comes off easier." he informed, sticking the band-aid on without issue.

"You have a pretty specific technique there, Bruce."

"You pick up a few things in medical school." he shrugged.

"You're a doctor?" she marveled.

"Yep."

"And you're here in Georgia?" Cori was right to be skeptical.

"World traveler, remember?" Bruce grinned. She returned the smile.

"I've got a doctor for a farmhand." Cori couldn't help but say, equal parts delighted and proud. "Seems like you'll be pretty beneficial!"

"I hope so." _I have to be. If I'm not, I'm destructive_.

"Well…good night, Bruce. I'll see you in the morning."

"Good night. And…thanks again."

"Don't mention it."

_I won't_, he thought. _I won't mention a lot of things. Not unless I have to._ Something dreadful and intuitive filled him. _She's going to find out_, his mind warned, _they're coming for you and you know it. A tiny farm in the middle of nowhere will hardly stop them._

_The phrase IS "down on the farm"_, Bruce told himself, as if he could hold a conversation with his own mind. It wasn't a far-fetched concept. Sometimes he could talk to The Other Guy…when he was in the mood, anyways. _I'll just put them down on the farm. Or down in the ground on the farm. _

_We'll be alright._

Bruce could hardly believe the month was almost over. It had taken him a week just to get used to the soft sounds of nature. He'd slept on pins and needles that first week, waiting for traces of an ambush. Waiting for guns to click and someone to kick down the door. They'd fallen into a peaceful routine that wasn't unlike playing house.

At first light one would get up to feed chickens while the other milked the cow. Bruce was often nominated to sneak in and get chicken eggs. The chickens were new to Coriander, and didn't seem to like her very much. He was agile enough to sneak in and vault over the fence before they rushed out to peck him to death. Banner would feed the pigs while Cori dealt with the one horse her parents owned.

He offered to do the horse, but it seemed to be spooked by him. They'd come in for a short snack before heading to the massive garden. He'd known her less than a month, but Bruce felt like he'd known her a life time. Like him, she'd taken some time to unwind and truly open up. Once she did, though, their commonalities seemed endless.

She craved his boundless knowledge and he enjoyed her unwillingness to judge. He was doing what he promised – baling hay, fixing the tractor when it broke, examining the crops – and that's all she cared about. Coriander didn't know about The Other Guy. Bruce doubted she would care about him. He'd posed a "hypothetical" situation concerning Jekyll and Hyde nature, and how she would act upon finding someone like that.

Bruce asked her opinions, wanting to know how she would label the imaginary man. Coriander said she wouldn't label him because she didn't understand. She said it wasn't right to judge something by its outward appearance when the story was on the _inside_. He really came to appreciate her then, for more than just the bed and cozy meals. Banner appreciated her because she _defended _him (he was the basis for the hypothetical, after all).

For him, that's all that mattered.

From that point on Bruce delicately tested their boundaries. It had been quiet for quite some time in the Georgia area. He could see himself settling down in a place like this. A place that had her. A place that she seemed to flourish and be at home in.

It started with doing nice things, like offering to make her coffee. Turns out, she didn't drink it, but he was given points for thoughtfulness. She repaid him by making crispy bacon the next morning. The small exchange of favors continued until Cori turned their flirting down a new path: playful. Bruce was baling hay as she filled the horse's water bucket.

He'd yelped and jumped like something dangerous had been thrown into his clothes when the cool water slapped his back. Cori cackled like a delighted child. She even had tears in her eyes. Flushing, thinking to himself that it was nice she'd gotten him extra clothes, Bruce allowed it. Until he'd found out that she was easy to scare, that is.

All he had to do was run up and thump her sides with his fingers, or yell, and she'd fly into the air. It was laughable and handy. He'd sent her into the pigs' water trough with that trick. She retaliated by pretending a hearty soup was from the slop bucket. In a moment of weakness, considering the colorful and slightly lumpy texture, he believed it.

Bruce was quick to spit it out. Coriander fell to the floor in a fit of laughter. She'd gotten him _again_! He planned to scare her by popping out of the sunflowers the next day, and almost succeeded. Something – maybe the rustling plants, maybe the pop of purple against the green – gave him away. Cori rounded quickly, about the time Bruce stumbled out, and he was so surprised that she faced him that he tried to stop his feet.

Halting momentum abruptly while in motion is incredibly hard. He knew all the physics and science saying that. It was no surprise to him that he fell. Right on top of her. Bruce was _mortified_, but could remember nothing but the feel of her lips.

Why he was on top of her, what had happened, and their proximity to the sunflowers went unnoticed.

They were _kissing_!

Bruce reluctantly admitted to himself that this was what he'd been waiting for. That this was what he hoped the prank war led to. They'd both been dancing around the possibility, but hadn't acted. It was a moment that shifted the whole tone of the farmhand job. Suddenly the illusion of playing house became a reality.

They spent their days helping one another with the chores, taking care of the animals, talking over dinner, and sharing a sleeping space. Though they never went beyond a slow, closed-mouth kiss and cuddling, Bruce was fine with it. All good things were worth waiting for.

"You gonna stare at the sunrise all morning or get the eggs?" teased Cori, an empty bucket in her hand. Bruce's eyebrows rose in acknowledgement as he drew himself up from the wooden banister of the front porch. The myriad of colors blending in the morning sky was hypnotizing. It was easy to lose himself and indulge in the peace since he'd found a way to keep Hulk pacified.

The Other Guy never came out, as he requested, but in return he would let him throw the hay around or bale it. He liked dragging buckets of water around or yanking handfuls of ready tomatoes up by the stalk. It exercised the wild impulses that made him the destructive creature that he was. Mornings were for Bruce. When he took on the first chore, from them on out the day was Hulk's.

Until meal time and breaks, but he was always there, sitting on the back of his mind. Hulk though his young, female employer was interesting. Nice people were rare for the two of them. Nice people who wanted to kiss Banner and cuddle were even rarer. "I'm going." Bruce promised, "C'mon, Chickpea."

He'd come to learn the origins of Chickpea, too. Brie, her older sister, had charmed her way into buying another pet. It was Bruce's understanding that she'd gotten all the pets thus far. Even Lady Purrington had been Brie's, but after she left the cat took to Cori. Coriander was, once again, upset that _she _didn't get to buy the animal.

She had a strange addiction to chickpeas, Bruce learned. It was strong enough to pacify her and prevent the darkest of moods. Her mother had wisely washed and prepared a bag of chickpeas for her to munch on while Brie browsed for a pet. Unbeknownst to the family, the bag had a hole in it. Chickpeas dropped in a trail-like fashion as Brie debated on the selection of pets.

A little duckling squeezed through a thin metal holding pen and gobbled one up. The little duck soon found another chickpea. It followed the trail, ending up at the feet of a young girl with a bag of chickpeas. They'd been inseparable ever since. Chickpea, as it turned out, was useful for distracting the chickens (and that made Bruce's job easy).

Chickpea was also a good defense against Lady Purrington. The little duck had proven himself to be a good guard where Cori was concerned, too. He hadn't warmed up to Bruce until four days later when the scientist found him preening in the fading warmth of his pillow. Without The Other Guy, he wouldn't be warm enough to attract the feathered creature. Chickpea now ran to him when Lady Purrington initiated an unfair game of tag.

Chickpea trusted him, and Bruce trusted Chickpea. A girlish, terrified scream pierced the air. Bruce was right to trust Chickpea's startle. Something was wrong, and it spooked the little animal. _Something's wrong_, his mind startled whirling as he stumbled to the barn where the horse and cow stayed.

"Dead…dead…they're dead!" Cori was a blubbering mess. Bruce peeked into the barn, drawing her out as he did so. Both animals' throats had been slit. _They've found you. They're here. They're showing you they're here._ the always-ready-to-run-Banner told him. He knew then and there he had to hide her.

Bruce's mind went immediately to the sunflowers. They were plentiful and tall. He could hide her among them. Going directly for the truck was dangerous. It could be rigged. Government agents wouldn't hesitate to shoot it up.

To kill her.

His pulse was at its high point as they crashed through the sunflowers. Bruce shushed her, trying to be compassionate as he surveyed the surrounding and calculated the likelihood of agents hiding amongst the flowers. _It's possible, _he admitted, heart racing fast enough to pulverize his ribcage. He couldn't hear anything with his pulse in his ears. "Don't move!" warned a new voice.

Bruce snapped. He wasn't to the point of unleashing Hulk, though. Instead, he used The Other Guy's strength to uproot a sunflower and beat the gunman with it. It shocked the black-clad figure, to say the least. No one expected to be beaten with a plant.

"Hit me again and I swear to god I'll blow her fucking head off!" snarled the agent, pointing a loaded pistol at Cori's temple.

"QUACK-QUACK-QUA-QUA-QUACK!"

"AH! AH GOD! DAMN THING!"

_POW!_

"CHICKPEA!" tears blurred Cori's vision. The man shot Chickpea. Her darling duck! Her brave little ball of fluff had given her an opportunity to get away. A man would always protect his nuts; it was an instinct. "YOU BASTARD!" she rounded on him like she had Bruce the day they kissed, and proceeded to beat the shit out of him.

As best she could, at any rate. She was swinging blindly with rage. It felt like she was hitting a lot of padding, too. He'd responded with a hard right hook she didn't properly see. The closeness of the man made the blow stronger.

She crumpled, surprised that the hit landed so solidly. Cori's right cheek was aflame in pain. "Stay down." Bruce couldn't take it anymore. Neither could The Other Guy.

_HURT CHICKPEA! CORI LIKE CHICKPEA! HURT CORI! HULK AND BANNER LIKE CORI! HULK SMASH!_

Hulk clapped, wind bending and breaking sunflowers as the man was thrown back. Several other agents were displaced. The giant roared. Cori cried because she didn't understand how Bruce was gone, or where the green giant had come from. She cried because Chickpea was gone. Because weird black-wearing _freaks_ slaughtered the horse and cow.

Because she didn't know what was going on.

The agents were thrown, smacked, and bellowed at. Hulk pitched them far over the white fence marking the border of Cori's family's land. Satisfied that he'd extracted them all, Hulk lumbered carefully back to the remains of the sunflowers. Cori was in here somewhere…he'd made sure not to step on her, to only move forward, so he was sure she was fine. He found her sobbing and shaking in a bed of twisted sunflowers.

Hulk sat carefully, coasting exhaustedly off the end of a rampage. He pinched her quaking body, putting it in the palm of his other hand. "Cori okay?"

"No!" she sniffed. Cori was stressed. And confused. And upset. "They ki-killed the an-animals. They k-killed Chi-Chickpea!"

"Hulk know that. Not _mean _that. Hulk want know that Cori not hurt." she wiped her eyes, finding safety and comfort in his gigantic hand. Traces of Bruce could be seen in that face. The shape of his eyes were the same, but the color was different. They both had the same curly hair.

"N-No. I'm fi-fine." she managed.

"Hulk glad."

"Who is Hulk, exactly?" Cori asked, voice beginning to level out.

"Hulk inside of Banner. Hulk protect Banner. Come out when Banner angry."

"Bu…but how?"

"Bruce in accident when young. Gamma bomb explode. Bruce save boy, but get hit. Then Hulk born."

"And you come out…all the time?"

"Only when Banner angry. Man hurt Cori. Banner not like." explained the giant. Cori jumped towards his face, giving him a grateful hug. She didn't _care _who was who! He's saved her life! Hulk stroked her back carefully, holding her to his cheek.

He picked up one of the surviving sunflowers, offering it feebly to her. It was yellow, like Chickpea, so maybe she would love it. Maybe it would make her smile. Sun was associated with cheeriness, and it was a _sun_flower. Cori gently pushed the flower away from herself.

She didn't want a flower. She wanted to be held and to feel secure. "What are we going to do? How do I explain this?"

"Banner know. Cori talk to Banner." Hulk set her down gently, letting the scientist out. Bruce was exhausted, but had already come up with a plausible plan to cover the true events. It wasn't uncommon for farmers to fight amongst themselves or even sabotage the competition to get better business. He'd make it seem as if someone had driven a tractor through the fence with the purpose of ruining crops. Rival farmers might also kill livestock to prevent the marketing of animal-based products.

The dirt was mussed until it no longer resembled giant footprints. He made sure to mow over it and create an obvious pattern of destruction capable of ruining the sunflowers. Chickpea was quickly, gently buried in a hand-dug grave. Covering evidence of the government was the easy part. Now came the hard part.

His new clothes were stuffed into his bag. Bruce methodically collected any evidence of himself. "Call the police." he instructed, moving around to wipe any trace of his fingerprints from the counter. _I'll get the front porch banister on the way out_, he told himself.

"You're _leaving_?" Cori wailed. She couldn't be left alone, not after that!

"They need to investigate. It'll look suspicious if you don't report it." Bruce pointed out. He paused, looking her over. Committing her to memory. "Besides…you've seen what I am. I need to keep moving. More people will be looking for me."

"I don't want you to leave, Bruce! I'm scared! Look at what just fucking happened!" Cori sniffed, feeling another wave of tears coming.

"I understand." Bruce couldn't stress that enough. He really couldn't. "But, trust me, this is for the best. If I leave they will track _me_, not you."

"But-!"

"You sleep with that big floor fan on, like you always do. You didn't hear the tractor." Bruce began to coach. He could do this because he knew her like the back of his hand. She was a kicker in her sleep, and a roller. Cori got hot easily so she needed extra air circulation, and only slept half-dressed because of that. "If they find Chickpea, he heard the tractor. Someone killed him just like they did the horse and the cow to keep them quiet. You found the animals first, then saw the damage to the crops."

"Bruce, _please_!"

"I have to." he frowned. "I love you." Bruce crossed the kitchen and kissed her forehead. The genius stole a rag and used it to place the phone in her slack hand. "I love you." repeated Bruce, hugging her. "It'll be alright."

"Bruce!"

"I love you." he stole one more glance, then turned around. He didn't look back.

Tony munched lightly on dried blueberries, hoping to spur conversation. He'd read Bruce's whole file. The man obviously didn't like talking about his alter ego. Knowing that, Tony jumped to the only thing lacking detail in his folder. "You have 'farmhand' on your resume. What's that about?"


	21. Happy Endings

We Need to Quit Meeting like This

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**AN: **I'm updating because I can't sleep. I feel like I have a sinus infection or something and can't breathe through my nose .

Thanks to amy, Ravenclaw Slytherin, Maymayliu, and kiwi8fruit for reviewing the last chapter.

To amy: I may make a sequel if I can think of substance for one.

This prompt was requested by kiwi8fruit. Hope I did it justice!

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Happy Endings

_"I need you both on this, Banner." Fury looked to him seriously, his one good eye stifling any objections._

_"The three of us." Cori corrected fearlessly. "You need Bruce to infiltrate, Hulk to smash, and me to, uh…to…why am I doing this again? Isn't Natasha more experienced?"_

_"Natasha just got back from Russia. She needs down time. And 'The Other Guy' doesn't listen to her like he does you." Fury reminded. "You know, aside from the fact that you can hack into technology." he added dryly and casually._

_"Ah, well—"_

_"Just get in the car." Fury pointed in the direction of the car they'd be taking._

_"Right." she pivoted in the short, dark heels and started towards the car. Bruce watched her go, telling himself it was to make sure she didn't get injured pre-infiltration. The sway of her hips and the cling of her satin emerald gown may have had something to do with it, also. He swallowed, wondering with irony if a life-and-death mission would give him the courage he'd need to confess his feelings. He hoped it would._

_He'd been standing on the polite side of the love line for quite some time. He was ready to cross over physically. To join his perception that had made the young woman more than Tony's trusted 'not child' and his occasional patient. Bruce readjusted his black tie, stiff feet walking towards the vehicle. She sat in the passenger seat, looking dainty and luminescent in the dark gown._

_The door closed behind him. Bruce set his hands on the wheel as an apparent silence saturated the vehicle. _

_It was just them. They were alone. En route to a 'meeting of the minds' mostly occupied by scientists trying to collaborate with SHIELD enemies. There was more than enough time to talk to her. He just couldn't get his damn tongue to _work_! Bruce noticed her nervous, dancing fingers out of the corner of his eye._

_"You have the weapons, right?" she asked. Her dress was far too short to conceal anything successfully. It stopped at the bend of her knee, but that provided no comfort or concealment where straps and holsters were concerned. The dress was strapless so there were no sleeves available to hide knives. Cori's question made the presence of small guns strapped to his ankle, thigh, and waist noticeable once again._

_"Yes." he assured._

_"Good."_

_"They don't matter, though. I AM a weapon." said Bruce with a note of bitterness and dry amusement._

_"No you're not, Bruce. You're a lover, not a fighter."_

That was all Bruce remembered. Fragments of the meeting reappeared from a concrete- and sweat-scented cloud of forgetfulness, but only briefly. The images never stayed long enough for him to hold onto. Bruce only knew two things: he'd woken up in tatters at the center of a demolished building, and he and Cori were covered head to toe in concrete dust, sweat, and blood. SHIELD cars arrived quickly and collected them but they couldn't answer Bruce's questions.

She wouldn't, either.

Bruce was worried. Did something happen to her? Had The Other Guy been set off because someone touched her? Hulk was rather jealous, the antithesis to his timid approach concerning women, and didn't hesitate to show his affection. Or his jealousy.

Those blatant displays from such a primal creature made it hard for him to deny anything. She was beginning to understand. His chances to keep his heart safe and stay a quite admirer were steadily being dashed. It was that fact that motivated him to _maybe _confess in the car. He'd never confessed, but made up for it by holding her hand as they walked through the front entrance together.

All of his aliases described a brilliant man. He was a scientist no matter which identity he picked. She was his wife earlier tonight. It was an illusion that thrilled Bruce like a giddy schoolboy hopped up on the sweet bliss of a relationship with his first crush. That illusion had been ruined by something.

The answer eluded him and frustrated him. Fury suggested he get a shower and clean up while they picked Cori's brain. She was a walking computer at SHIELD's disposal. Bruce knew, then, that she'd heard or seen something that initiated the destruction. They were sending him away so he didn't explode for a second time.

It was sensible, but still pissed him off. Hulk was mad, too, but for an entirely different reason. He'd been there during the whole fight. After exercising himself Hulk usually fell quiet, and he was now, but Bruce was still uneasy. At the back of his mind the same thoughts hummed: _Cori not smell like ours anymore. Cori smell like dust. Cori smell like sweat. Cori smell like _other people_._

And he was honestly worried by that. Banner was linked to Hulk, and in moments of weakness adopted his views on the world. Cori not smelling like them meant someone else was moving in on her. It meant something or someone was trying to cancel out his scent – his mark – on the young woman.

That was not acceptable.

_Need see Cori. Need make smell like Hulk and Banner again. Not smell right. Need make smell right._ Normally Hulk was a migraine-inducing shout in his mind. This was a quiet, hurried chatter. It was Banner's last coherent realization. Hulk lumbered down the hallway, taking the familiar turns of the twisted corridors to arrive at Cori's room. Everything had come down around them once the scientist figured out Cori was linking to his phone and logging information.

The myriad of weapons couldn't hurt Hulk. They did end up compromising the building, though. Hulk assumed the scientists wanted to crush him if they couldn't kill him. Cori was merely caught in the crossfire after fighting her way out of one close-combat situation. He'd swatted all the nutty scientists away like flies, tossing away rubble to save what technology he could.

He and Cori were covered in concrete dust. Unlike him, she had scrapes owed to combat and structural collapse. His enhanced nostrils couldn't take the pressing scent of males, males, _males _all over Cori. It sickened him; those males weren't Banner. Her scent – sweet and somewhat spicy – was drenched in repellant accents.

She needed to be clean. To smell comfortably _sort of _like Banner again. That, he could handle. Her current smell? No. It was very bad.

Almost rage-inducing because it wasn't his. Why…if she wasn't his other people would take her! They wouldn't know he was interested! She had to be reclaimed, Hulk thought. Banner may be slow on the confession, but he wouldn't allow such leniency. That was his and no one else was taking it.

He'd make sure.

Hulk found himself brushing one large knuckle against the door. It sufficed as knocking and opened the door. Curls of steam escaped to greet him, moistening his naturally warm skin. The shower curtain concealed protective sliding panes that blurred her figure. She was creamy pale, slender, and humming softly.

The color of her nipples and dark hair was especially obvious against her skin. She had a matching tuft of dark hair between her legs. Coriander turned occasionally, eyes closed as she scratched at her hair. A hint of mango and vanilla hung in the air. Hulk smacked his lips, pleased to find the smell wasn't _as bad _as it had been.

It wasn't totally gone, however.

The giant nudged the door aside with one finger. She squealed, hands clapping over her breasts as she shifted her weight to hide the tuft of hair. Coriander was bright red. How could she not have heard Hulk?! _Well…he's quiet when he needs to be_, she admitted. Sometimes he said nothing in her company, preferring to stroke her hair or lay on the floor with her on his chest.

Hulk grabbed her without second thought. He hadn't held her since the building collapsed. She'd been soft and scared in his massive hands. His hand closed carefully around her slick flesh, lifting her out of the shower. "No, no!" Cori admonished, "We don't…uh, we don't do the whole 'meeting' thing when one of us is naked, remember?"

He hugged her to his face, nostrils twitching against the base of her throat. "Cori stink." Hulk stated flatly. She frowned at him, lips daring to pucker angrily.

"Well, you _did _just take me out of the shower! I wasn't finished!" Cori crossed her arms over her chest. She'd barely gotten time to finish her hair! It was cold outside the shower; her skin was riddled with goose bumps because of the temperature change. The girl could be thankful that she didn't smell concrete dust when she breathed.

The water seemed to clear that up and wash away the streaks.

"No, Cori stink to _Hulk_. Not normal stink." tried to explain the giant.

Cori's brows furrowed in confusion. She knew Hulk was more…animal-like than Bruce. If she didn't stink like a normal person, then what did she smell like? Obviously it was something only he could smell. She'd only really gotten the impression of concrete dust and a hint of blood.

"Then what is it?"

"Cori smell like blood. Like men. Need stronger smell to make Cori not smell."

Smell…not smell? She was confused. Hulk grumbled, large mouth twisting down in a frown. He knew what he needed to say, just not how to say it! It made sense to him!

She stunk, she smelled like other people…she needed to smell like _him _or lesser males would think her in their league. They would try to take her and mate with her! He would not allow that. Not when she belonged to him (and Bruce by default).

"Cori need smell like Hulk. That make stink go away for Hulk."

"And how am I going to smell like you? Are they marketing an eau de Hulk now?" she teased. Though she was naked, Cori felt safe enough to joke. It was Bruce, after all. Or he was in there, rather. And, besides, Hulk had his hand closed so it's not like he was _seeing_ anything.

He didn't think the cologne joke was funny. Instead of replying in his stilted way he just _showed _her. Cori trembled as his large, hot tongue swiped against her throat and cheek. Hulk mewled, rolling her over carefully in his hold until her back met his eye. She arched her back as he started licking at the base of her spine.

Hulk traced the curve of her spine, gentle snorts of air partially drying his trail of conquest. His lips smoothed over her left shoulder, gliding down her arm. The green giant had always wondered how intimacy would go for him. He was larger than a normal human, after all. Once or twice he'd had a fantasy of taking Cori into his mouth and letting his tongue explore the contours of her.

It seemed like a fairly tame and reasonable fantasy. Humans could do it. Why not him? He avoided her hands; the bittersweet mango fragrance told him they wouldn't taste very good. Her shampoo and conditioner was too concentrated there.

He rubbed his cheek and nose against the nape of her neck before brushing his lips across her right shoulder. His scent was starting to become apparent and that pleased him. She felt his teeth nip and skate curiously along her right side. It was enough to make Cori shivered when coupled with his hot breath and moist mouth. Running his tongue down the length of her side and leg led him to her toes.

Cori giggled, kicked, and wiggled her feet. She hated them being messed with. He barely wet them, intending to do so later. Her left side and the expanse of her toned back looked very appealing. Coriander could never be _too moist _with the taste of him, after all.

He stroked the globes of her bottom curiously. They were soft and plump in his hand. Kissing from the bottom of her spine, to the top, and down the other side left her thoroughly soaked. Hulk turned her over, eyes floating to the hard pink nubs of her chest. The giant cooed.

"Satisfied?" she crossed her arms over her chest.

"Almost." he mumbled softly, as if transfixed by her. "Smell leaving. Not all gone."

Interested in her naval, Hulk started there. Winding loops around the depression, dipping his tongue in, Hulk soon started up towards the valley of her breasts. Cori shivered, kicking up her legs as a soft moan escaped. His large lips were puckered curiously and carefully around her left bosom.

She could feel his teeth pinching around it. His jaw working to lift it and hold it. Bolts of hot pleasure electrified her veins. Coriander gave a somewhat-voluntary blissful whine. Hulk mewled back.

After paying tribute to her other breast he worshiped her collarbone and shoulders. He lifted her slightly, angling his large wrist at a slant. As he licked down her arm and switched sides Hulk gradually widened his mouth. The fantasy of her hanging from his lips as his tongue explored every inch of her would become a reality. "Hey, hey!" she reflexively smacked his nose and cheeks, unaccustomed to the feeling of being in his mouth.

Her skin crawled with excitement and shock at the feel of his wet mouth fitting to her like a glove. His cheeks were slightly hollow, like he was trying to suck her like a human pacifier. She felt his tongue trace and curl around her upper thigh. The green giant purposefully avoided the sweet pleasure between her thighs. Cori's dazed mind could only conclude he had a different method of appreciation for that.

Tickling the length of her thigh, giving her a light suckle, and massaging her with the roll of his lips was wonderful for the giant. Her taste would coat his mouth. Sweeten it. And, as a bonus, there would be no part of her that didn't smell of him. Hulk eased her out of his mouth, supporting her on his thick tongue before dropping her into her palm.

A hint of male pride warmed him. Her thighs were quaking. She was close, he could tell. He could _smell_ it. "Done now?" Cori asked breathlessly, surprised she could speak at all.

The combination of his moving muscles, warm breath, wet flesh, and playfully strong puckering that drew her in and out like a slide whistle was nearly _orgasmic_! If she hadn't stopped she would've gone over the edge. Her sex throbbed something unmerciful. She was hot, tight, and unwinding as he stared down at her. Cori was glad for the break.

Her heart fluttered and flopped as he closed his fingers around her body. What _now_? She found herself staring at the bathroom floor tiles, looking downward from her suspended position. A large, green finger poked at her tender mound. Surely he wasn't going to fit _that_ in there, right? She felt his hot finger prod at her trembling, wet flesh.

Cori cried out as his hot muscle mapped her slit. He was ruthless; Hulk only knew how to take, not to savor. The force of his lick was enough to shake her body. She felt like a slingshot or piece of licorice as his tongue bent her backward and sent her forward back to his mouth. Hulk inserted his tongue as best he could, adding variety to his shameless, long, slow licking.

She exploded against his tongue, gifting him a taste of salty sweetness. He turned her right side up, smacking his lips. Hulk set her down on shaky legs. Coriander liked to keep a towel on the floor for when she stepped out. It prevented injury on the tiles.

He wrapped her in that towel, picking her up to cuddle her like a child in the crook of his arm. "No more stink. Cori smell better." Hulk was pleased to inform.

"Are you going to do this after every mission?"

"Yes." Hulk gave her a dazzling, Bruce-like smile. "It make Cori no stink. And good for make mission stress go away."

"You just want post-mission sex." she grinned. Hulk just smiled.

"After mission time supposed be happy. It over." said the giant. If it wasn't happy, he'd make it happy.

Bruce was always a fan of happy endings.


	22. Offering

We Need to Quit Meeting like This

* * *

**AN: **I'm updating this in hopes that traffic/reviews will be drummed up for _Romancing Captain Rogers_. Thanks to Maymayliu, Miko Hayashi, and kiwi8fruit for reviewing the last chapter.

This came from a personal prompt I forgot to log, but then found on a scrap of paper. It's not as steamy as the others. More fluff-based.

It came as a result from either _Wikipedia _or _Marvel Comics Database _(I don't remember which). Apparently, in the earlier comics, Bruce only turned into Hulk at _night_ (when he was first radiated, that is). It wasn't until later that he realized Hulk could come out during times of stress and because of intense pulse rate. I don't remember if the article said he knew about Hulk right away or if he discovered him later.

Notice: Update's will be iffy this week. On Wednesday a good friend of mine is coming into town until Sunday. Thursday I'm going to visit family. When I come back I'll likely be spending time with that friend until Sunday.

This update is short as a result of that.

* * *

Offering

_"Now is not a good time to bring your friend!" _whispered Carmen's paternal grandmother with insistency. Carmen stepped away from Coriander, motioning for her to hold on. This couldn't fall through. She'd already promised Coriander a trip to Brazil! Everything was fine a month ago!

What could've possibly happened so quickly? Her grandmother was rarely spooked.

"Grandma, I _have _to. I already told her I would! What's going on?"

_"I don't know! It's…something. We hear him at night."_

"It's probably a stray dog!" Carmen pointed out. "You're used to the animals there!"

_"It is not _from _here!_" she stressed. _"He showed up a month ago. Came right out of the jungle! People went to investigate and found trees, vines, and plants twisted like paper!"_

Carmen hesitated. That sounded dangerous, if not powerful. "What…what is it?"

_"We don't know. He protects us, though. Luiz's gang hasn't raided _anything_ since its arrival!"_

"If it protects you then what's the problem?"

_"Don't get smart with me!" _warned her grandmother. A few moments later she added, _"It spooks easily. Catalina forgot to set out the fruit and did so right when he was walking by her door. The poor thing took off!"_

"Wait, what? The fruit?"

_"Some set out fruit for him. Others leave bread. He takes all the offerings. We do it so he'll keep us safe."_

"We'll be like two more in the village! As long as we give him stuff why would he care that I'm bringing someone else along?"

_"I…I don't know."_ admitted her grandmother. _"He's used to us…the people here. I don't want him to get startled or feel threatened."_

"Cori is the _least _threatening person I know. Promise." swore Carmen.

A moment of silence passed. _"Fine. She can come."_

* * *

Coriander was surprisingly at home in Brazil. She was extremely nervous due to the difference in customs and the motions of daily life, but she was comfortable. Carmen was quick to show her which trees to be cautious of and how to peel and eat some of the local fruits. Eating good food made Coriander feel cozy in the warm, interesting place. The culture was also amazing; Coriander liked their colorful clothes and passionate dances.

No one in Brazil was lazy, she found. The village was always bustling with life, not unlike New York. She'd come to see the village as small, secluded, and friendly. Her favorite dish – so far – was cheese bread. It had a more exotic Brazilian name, but she couldn't quite say it.

It was most definitely her favorite, though. She could eat it until she popped! Carmen's grandmother taught her how to make it by hand, and she and Carmen would often spend the evenings making it. They'd retire to her room soon after it was done and munch on it while indulging in lazy conversation. Their conversations typically included reasons as to why her grandmother would make sure they were occupied and inside when the sun went down.

Carmen assured Coriander that ceasing all activity at sundown wasn't normal. Or hadn't been, at any rate. Sometimes there were parties or festivals, but not now. The little village quieted when the darkness set in. It was unsettling to the dark-haired American.

She was put off by Carmen voicing the oddity. It was like being caught in the middle of an approaching storm. Something was wrong…they just didn't know what! Coriander never slept well in a new place, not on the first night, and she _swore_ she heard something moving around outside.

Something big. It had deep, heavy breaths that sent shivers down to her toes. And footsteps to match; Cori couldn't be sure if the light reverberations were from the beat of her own heart or the massive creature that _had_ to be out there. She hadn't said anything, of course, because she didn't want to feed into the madness. The idea that something was off.

She could be wrong, after all. She was probably making it up as some delayed reaction to homesickness or fear. Things could always go wrong in foreign places. Kidnapping, murder, rape, and human trafficking always came to mind. Cori didn't think much of it, though.

Carmen wouldn't have brought her if she wasn't safe. And she _did _have an overactive imagination. Cori had a month to spend in Brazil. That's all Pepper and Tony would allow. It would probably take her the rest of the summer to adjust to New York again.

It crossed her mind to send them weekly messages, but she wasn't sure how. And part of her didn't want to. Being in Brazil was like a dream she didn't want to interrupt. The food was good, the locals were nice, and she was learning some rather interesting dance moves. Everything was going swimmingly until the dog bit her in the goddamn _ass_!

She'd gotten into the habit of carrying cheese bread around. It kept her from being hungry and buying overprices wares at stalls in the market. Carmen warned her of stray dogs, and they'd been able to scare most of them off, but one snuck up on her. The dog made off with her pouch of cheese bread. When she was stuffed it hung from a belt loop at her back.

The dog had caught her in a moment where she wasn't enjoying the treat. And he'd caught her bread. And the left cheek of her pants. It was embarrassing and painful. She was more pissed off about the dog running away with a _whole _pouch of cheese bread than she was about the bite wound in her buttocks.

Then, of course, the more she thought about it, the more she panicked. She'd been immunized before arriving, but the dog was a stray! What if it had some _other _disease she _hadn't _been immunized for? Before she could panic, foam at the mouth, and cry, Carmen took her to the local doctor. He hadn't been her long, Carmen translated from local speak, but he was good.

And cheap. Very quiet. They waited for fifteen minutes outside his house. An older man just beginning to gray at the temples greeted them with mild surprise. Cori flushed instinctively.

She'd been bitten in the _ass_, for one. And he was kind of cute, for two. And the kind of cute doctor would have to take care of her lightly bleeding ass. Fantastic! His lean arms were loaded down with local fruits.

Her heart shuddered when he eyed her from behind a pair of glasses. Glasses on guys were _so hot_! And he was _older_! This guy could easily be her Brazilian dream fling; Coriander had always wanted an older guy. They tended to be more mature, she thought.

"Can I…can I help you?" he stuttered, blinking brown eyes. Bruce was used to making house calls, not having people show up. Not women so young, at any rate. He was most shocked by how _American _the black-haired girl looked. It was mostly because he, himself, was an American.

The other reason for his shock included suspicion. She was an American. She was from the states…from civilization. Had someone sent her? Was she posing as some sort of tourist until she unearthed him or sent him running?

He couldn't be sure, and he steeled himself. "You can if you have stuff to take care of wounds." said the woman.

"I do." Bruce nodded. "How big is it?" there were a myriad of proper questions to ask about wounds, and that was the first. She said nothing, turning around to show him instead. "Oh…" Bruce blushed lightly. _That's _why the other girl was giggling!

"Shut up, Carmen!" mumbled the girl.

"What? It's funny now that you're not freaking out about it." managed the other through a fit of giggles.

"Stay out here. I don't need you watching." Cori held out her hand to stop Carmen from following her and the doctor. She was met with another round of giggles. Rolling her eyes, blushing, Cori followed the older man inside. Bruce was no stranger to treating dog bites, but he still found himself fumbling and trying not to look directly at the mark. It was on her _rear end_.

And she was a young, supple woman. She was slender, toned, and looked a bit like Betty. Bruce took that realization in a mixed way. Betty was sweet, and had meant the world to him…but it was all in the past. All "had" and not "does" because she'd made her choice clear.

It'd been a while since a woman like her sought his help. Even longer since he'd _touched _a woman even _remotely _like this. As depraved as he should find it, it was delectable. She responded so…_easily_. The girl was clearly young and skittish, a virgin by his estimation.

The idea that he could make her shiver and clench thrilled him in the basest of ways. Few people found science and gamma radiation sexy enough to count as foreplay or seduction. Bruce was constantly, softly explaining that he was _only _treating the wound. With her panties partially pulled down so he could treat the wound, he didn't need her thinking anything outlandish or inappropriate.

He didn't need _her _thinking it because _he _already was. Bruce was older, learned in the ways of the world, but he was still a _man_. From her bent, slightly squatting position over what he tentatively called a table, Bruce had _quite_ the view. She was moist and pink on the inside; he caught the slight part of her sex because of the dark hair surrounding it. Stifling his urges, Bruce smoothed on the occlusive dressing and deemed her fixed up.

"Thanks, um…?"

"Dr. Banner." Bruce readjusted his glasses.

"Thanks Dr. Banner." the young woman smiled.

"Not a problem." he assured.

"I'm Coriander, by the way. Figured you should get to know me. You might see me again. These dogs like my cheese bread, apparently." Cori rolled her eyes. And _her_! She was just harder to run away with, so the dog took the bread. Bruce laughed.

"Nice to meet you, Coriander. Try to hide it a bit better. I'd put what food I had in a small bag, then put that bag in a larger one. I've found that putting bitter or stronger spices in the larger bag keeps them away altogether."

"Interesting." Cori crossed her arms over her chest. "I'll try that. Thanks again!" she waved. Bruce watched her exit, able to hear her friend giggling as they walked away. He leaned against the worktable, reflecting on what had just happened. An ache passed through him as he realized how _alone _he was.

It was a realization that followed him no matter where he went. Bruce went about healing the sick and helping those he could because of _that _day. What happened, he didn't know. All he knew was that the bomb should've killed him, and it didn't. A few days later he woke up in a different part of Mexico, dazed and partly dressed.

A newspaper told him that the testing site was demolished. So much so that something large must've destroyed it. People – his friends, his coworkers – were gravely injured. The news spurred him to keep moving and hide. Someone would undoubtedly think he was the cause because he was alive and unscathed.

Bruce eventually believed he'd caused that chaos. It was that guilt that motivated him to help others. To heal them to offset those he'd hurt. The unflinching kindness earned him the respect and praise of the people, but not what he really wanted. It was lonely on the road.

Lonely moving from place to place.

He wanted a friend. Wanted someone to curl up with at night. Was that too much to ask? It felt like it. Special agents from the lab in Mexico were always breathing down his neck; he couldn't risk dragging someone else down with him.

Even if he wanted to. Even if it was just to keep him sane and help him feel _human _again. Though he had no memories of the nighttime, he knew the urge demanding he head for the jungle, for the setting sun, was unnatural. Bruce often felt like there was something looming beneath his skin. Something wild.

He had no scientific evidence, though, because he never really remembered anything from the evening time. _Maybe one day I'll figure this all out_, he mused dryly. Bruce felt something well up in the back of his mind. It was quiet, like a murmur. To Bruce it was wordless and unimportant.

His energy was reserved for thinking and healing. Not feeling. It was strong, though, whatever it was. Bruce chalked it up to loneliness and his admission that the young girl was pretty. He had no idea that the feeling was linked to sundown and the jungle.

To the animal within him.

* * *

"The sun's going down! Get into bed!" demanded Carmen's grandmother, as she had every night for the past two weeks. Coriander found sleeping easier now that her wound had closed up decently enough. She'd spent the first few days after the incident figuring out how to sleep painlessly. A bowl of fruits sat on the kitchen table, orderly, ripe, and beside the bowl of cheese bread they usually took back to Carmen's room. Cori tried to take the fruit (she and Carmen were worried about getting "doughy") once, but Carmen's grandmother wouldn't let her.

She was very adamant about it staying out. Cori never really understood why. It was always gone the next morning. Nonetheless, she told Carmen's grandmother goodnight and snuggled into the bed supported by a wooden frame. A small window hung above hers and Carmen's head.

They kept the windows small to prevent break-ins. It was enough to left in the nighttime air, though. Cori and Carmen talked for a short while, both enjoying cheese bread. Coriander usually fell asleep first, stuffed with cheese bread and drowsy from the moist, warm environment. Carmen would follow a little later.

While the girls slept Carmen's grandmother would put out the bowl of fruit. Doing so caused her to match every other house in the village. He came in the dark of night – no one knew when, as he didn't like being seen – to take the offerings. Had anyone taken the time to look at the giant, green creature, they would've noticed that he carried a small bag. The giant would stoop to collect the bowls and then dump the contents into the bag.

Once all the bowls were emptied he'd lumber bag towards the jungle. Tonight was different for him. He wanted more than food. The creature had a fuzzy recollection of The Other Man's memory, but knew she was the only other pale person in the village. Tonight he wanted her.

It was mostly for The Other Man. Because The Other Man wanted a friend. It was the least he could do. The Other Man unknowingly taught him about the world, and had since his creation. The Other Man needed to be happy, too.

He was happy in the jungle, amongst the plants and warmth. The Other Man never was. No, when he awoke it was always a mad dash to return to the people. To find clothes. He'd assumed it was because all the people were in their houses and not the jungle.

The Other Man wanted people, obviously. Wanted a person for himself. He'd give him one. He paused after collecting the bowl of fruit. She was here, in the house before him.

He could smell her. One green eye peered through the little window, confirming his belief. Now…how to get her out? His hand couldn't fit through the window, and he couldn't call her outside like The Other Man. His voice was still too new for all the words The Other Man knew.

Settling for the next best plan, he began to tap the bowl against the ground. _Someone _would come to investigate. When they did, he would point to what he wanted. And they would give it to him. He listened with The Other Man during the day and came out at night to straighten the naughty people ruining The Other Man's temporary peace.

The villagers liked him for that. They gave him things. He wanted just _one more_ thing. Because it wasn't for him, he thought he should get it without question. What he didn't expect to get was a shoe to the face.

Snorting, rubbing his nose, he squinted his eyes and lowered his head. The dark-haired girl from The Other Man's home had thrown a shoe at him! Tattered dignity not considered, it had worked! He closed his fingers proudly around her. She tried to run, but it didn't work.

He was larger and faster.

"HELP! HELP!" Cori cried. She _hadn't _been crazy! Something large _was _walking around at night. He didn't want her taken way, so he folded a large thumb carefully over her little mouth. Just her mouth, not her mouth and nose.

If he did that she'd be dead. The Other Man wouldn't have his person! The light turned on, startling Hulk. His fingers clutched the bag tightly so it wouldn't be lost as he ran back towards the jungle. Past the dense greenery and towering trees lay a formation of caves naturally carved by the elements. They would stay there.

He always brought The Other Man here for the night. Stooping low, remembering the countless times he'd banged his head, he took her into the deepest cave. The large rock waited to his right. Creating a door kept him dry and away from the occasional rain.

The rain was not welcome. Thunder and stinging lightning always followed it. He wheeled the large rock into place, turning to his companion with mild delight. The Other Man was going to be so happy when he woke up! Despite his best efforts to sit carefully, the ground still shook when he sat.

Dumping the fruit out and arranging it as best he could with his large hands drew her from the back of the cave. That was good. He wanted her to come closer. Cori didn't know what to think. She'd been _taken_!

And her kidnapper was _huge_! And _green_! He'd sealed her in, and she didn't know what to expect. Cori watched him shyly roll a melon-shaped fruit towards her. Having nieces and a nephew helped her identify that look of caution and fascination twisting his features.

He looked at her as if he'd never seen another human being. The blocked entryway led her to believe he didn't want to be alone. He wanted to keep his company, just like children wanted to keep playing no matter how tired the other person was. Emptying the bag's smaller pockets caused a knife, chalk, clothes, and glasses to spill out. Pushing the knife out to the woman, he waited.

Cori tentatively reached over, taking the knife. Though she wasn't really hungry, Cori peeled and nibbled on the fruit, anyways. He would pinch thick fingers around bananas and shoot them into his mouth. It was the best he could do, considering his size. She could tell he was trying to create a relaxed atmosphere.

She finally stopped. "You can't talk, can you?" growling or imitating a dog would've been easier than beating up a bowl. The giant blinked green eyes at her. Slowly, he shook his head. He shuffled his feet against the rough rock floor, looking like her nephew when he was frustrated and tangled up in what words he knew.

It was the picture of someone who was trying – and couldn't – organize a sentence.

Cori understood, but that wouldn't suffice. She needed to know. Why her? Why here? Would she get to go home?

"What do you want?" Cori couldn't help but ask. He grabbed the fat, short piece of chalk with the tips of his fingers. The creature hunched muscled, green shoulders as he carefully sketched. It was sloppy, but Cori discerned the two stick figures as one boy and one girl. Two small, uneven circles lined the boy's eyes.

Glasses. Like the ones in the backpack. She noticed he made the figures look like one creation. They were linked at their little stick hands. Lifting the chalk to show he was finished, the green thing then made a quick circle around the stick hands.

He stared at her as if to allow her to contemplate his creation. "You want…friends?" he shook his head 'no', pointing to the man with glasses. "He wants friends? That boy?" tried Cori. She'd gotten it right that time. The creature added a smiley face between the two.

"He wants to be happy?"

He nodded. A heart crookedly accompanied the smiley face.

"And loved?" _Okay, so maybe this isn't as scary as I thought_, Coriander told herself. He acted like a giant child. His train of thought seemed relatively simple. Simple things were wanted. She noticed the clothes, wondering why something – or someone? – that big had human-sized clothes.

"Why do you have those clothes?"

One large hand tapped the wrinkled clothes, then pointed to his chest. She didn't understand. He redrew the boy with glasses, made an equal sign – The Other Man knew that meant 'the same thing' or 'equal to', and that's what he was trying to show – and drew a crude representation of himself. "You…are the boy?" she squinted curiously, not totally able to wrap her head around that.

Hulk nodded. A sun was drawn above the boy with glasses. The moon was for the giant. He drew a chunky plus sign – the symbol of health and medicine for some reason. He didn't know why. The Other Man just knew it as that – and an arrow that pointed back to the boy with glasses.

"You're sick?"

He shook his head. _That means you don't need medicine_, she thought. Medicine was her next guess. A dull pain began to throb in her buttocks and she shifted positions, keeping herself off the rock floor as best she could. It clicked.

"You're the doctor? The one that patched my butt?!"

He laughed. Honest to goodness _laughed_. His excited clapping shot bursts of air towards her. It was enough to blow Cori back. The giant quickly stopped, allowing her to sit up.

Wiggling his toes, he smiled. He was pleased with her discovery. Cori just blinked. If this was the doctor, well, he had a hell of a condition! "So am I going home tomorrow? I mean, I kind of have to. And you need to get back to the village tomorrow." Cori figured some conversation was better than none.

It eased the silence, and helped her better understand the massive child. That's really all he was. A child. A lonely child. He craved attention and affection as much as the doctor, she was sure, because it was _him _who'd brought her here.

The giant answered her by pointing to the sun. She'd go home tomorrow, with the doctor. It nearly broke her heart, that motion. He only wanted company for the night – for _one night_. He was so _alone_!

"Well…what am I doing here if I'm going back the next morning?"

He drew a large rectangle and two small squares at the top. She vaguely recognized it as a bed. Beside it were two figures – him and her – with little _z_'s next to their heads. The green man wanted company. "Where am I supposed to sleep? You don't look like you have a bed in there." she joked.

Thinking she wanted to sleep _now_, he picked her up. Coriander freaked out for a second or two, not liking the feeling of being suspended above pure rock. She calmed down once her bare feet touched his warm chest. The giant's large finger stroked her head. He was being very careful, treating her delicately.

She had to admit that the backrub was nice. So was the heat he radiated. He clearly meant her no harm, and that soothed her. Cori was safe, warm, and still stuffed. Still sleepy from being rudely awakened.

It would be easy to go back to sleep.

"Goodnight, big guy." she received a low hum. A happy stroke of the head.

* * *

In his first moments of consciousness Bruce knew where he was. The hard ground was very familiar. Someone sleeping on him was not. He yelped, quickly untangling himself. She jumped alive, rubbing her eyes and cursing.

He squinted, focusing blurry vision. Was that…the girl who'd been bitten by the dog? Bruce thought it was. Trembling fingers reached for his glasses. It was.

Bruce swallowed. This was both good _and _bad. On the one hand, someone could finally tell him what the hell happened when the sun went down. On the other, she'd seen whatever it was that he became. "Wh-what happened? How did you get here?"

"You brought me here." she grumbled, clearly not happy about being woken up. "Or he did…the other guy." Cori rubbed at her eyes again.

"O-Other guy?"

"The big one in the drawings." she yawned. _Drawings? _he looked down at the lightly smudged creations. It was the first time "The Other Guy" had left any visible trace of himself. Bruce didn't know whether to be embarrassed or amazed. He showed particular interest in the drawing that mimicked an equation.

The big thing _equaled_ him. It had a conscience separate of him. It knew who _he _was. That was a mind-blowing discovery for a scientist. "What…what does this all mean?" to him it was Greek, to The Other Guy it meant something.

"He brought me here because you needed a friend." she explained, pointing to the circle around the hands. "And he wanted you to be happy. To be loved." her finger lightly traced the smiley face and heart. He looked around to see browning fruit and untouched pieces in a semi-neat pile. There was always fruit when he awoke.

"He's…looking out for me." deduced Bruce, his brows furrowed in thought. "I-I mean, it makes sense! The food, the seclusion…"

"What are you hiding from?"

"The government." Bruce revealed. There was no use lying to her. Not when she'd finally seen him. "I used to work at a lab in Mexico. The top-secret project we were developing backfired. I got caught in the crossfire and it turned me into…into _that_."

"And the government's mad at you?"

"No. They want _it_. They want to use it for a weapon." he said.

"Maybe he's protecting you because you're protecting _him_. Maybe he's giving you things to keep it that way. He's earning your trust." offered Cori. Bruce hadn't thought of it that way. Until now the presence of…_him _was nothing but a murmur in his mind. A feeling. A suspicion.

"Maybe." Bruce muttered. "He meant well, but I have to leave now. I'll take you back to the village and then I'm gone." he said, more to himself than her.

"Why?"

"I can't stay. Not when he grabbed someone. They'll report it. They've probably called the army…or worse!" fretted Bruce, slipping out of the gap The Other Guy always left. The Other Guy…that fit strangely well. Collecting the uneaten fruit and what items he had, Bruce started towards the opening. He offered his hand to her, helping her out of the space. They stepped carefully down the earthy, rocky slope leading back into the jungle.

Stomped plants and uprooted, twisted trees hemmed him. He'd walked this path for days. He knew they were heading back towards the village. Bruce stopped before the greenery could thin out and reveal him. People were undoubtedly looking for Cori.

"I have to go. Thank you." Bruce picked up her hand to drop a kiss on her knuckles.

"Th-thank you? For what?" Cori didn't understand.

"Don't worry about it." smiled Bruce. "Just…thank you." he gave her an encouraging wave towards the village. She slowly, cautiously returned. The second she turned around the peer back through the foliage Bruce took his leave. He traveled light to move fast.

He'd be able to travel light for a long time, too. She'd given him one night of human contact, affection, and closeness. That was all he'd need for a while. It was the best offering he'd ever received.


	23. The Babysitter

We Need to Quit Meeting like This

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**AN: Before jumping down to read this installment please do take the time to read this authoress note :D.**

Sorry for the disappearance guys. Survived Thanksgiving. Finished almost all of my Christmas shopping. Played chauffer for my awesome friend who came into town. Lately I've been feeling drained and feel as if I have little to no motivation to be on Fanfic.

Don't get me wrong – you guys are super fantastic and awesome :D (much, much, _much _love)‼! It really pushes the 'ON' button to my want for writing in fandoms when I see favorites and reviews and things like that. I don't know…I guess with my last semester of community college coming to an end, and the hunt for universities beginning…I feel…empty. Exhausted. Unfairly stripped of my motivation and love for writing.

It's my side project, too. Lot of anxiety and attempts to focus on that. Almost – not quite – hitting rough patches (in danger of doing so, I guess). **I'm actually legitimately trying to get published**. Very nerve-wracking. Almost finished with my second novel (the first one received partial requests and one shady offer of representation I refused to take. Other than that, nothing but rejection letters, haha xD. Oh well, can't always get it right the first time, right?); finished the query letter, following my outline…just need to finish the story itself.

Lots of fears and doubts of inadequacy. Wondering if I'm good enough. When I want a break from that and school, though, I come here. You guys are unknowingly my relaxer xD. It's just _fun _and _free _here.

Wow. Quite a rant. Sorry about that, loves!

**The important stuff**: finals will be done by next week. Should have my stuff sent off to universities by then. Might not do anything tomorrow because I have finals on Monday night and Tuesday morning. This is getting updated because it's the smallest amount I can afford to write right now.

This idea was unknowingly contributed by Miko Hayashi when wondering about how Hulk would be with babies.

To Maymayliu: interesting prompt. Not totally overdone, either. I'm overlooking it, though, because what I would want to do with it is far too long for this oneshot collection. If I ever write another Bruce/Cori story, though, I may use that as the storyline (while giving you credits, of course). For now, though, _I just don't have the stamina for something that big_.

After this installment (and the Stark wedding Cori/Bruce couple thing) I am officially out of prompts. No prompts means no updates. Sorry :/

Enjoy!

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The Babysitter

"IS THAT THE BEST YOU CAN OFFER? THAT'S NOT HELPFUL! WHAT ARE WE GOING TO DO?!"

"Look, Pep, I know that you're mad, but—"

"I'M MAD _AND _SCARED! WHAT ARE HER PARENTS GOING TO SAY? WHAT DO WE SAY TO THEM?!"

"We tell them an unforeseen but _reversible _accident happened in the lab. Look…she was just trying to give Bruce a blanket, okay? I can only assume she knocked over something in the process. Or activated some buttons on the touch panels."

"Then _de_activate the buttons, Tony!"

Bruce blinked. Now he _knew _he wasn't dreaming. His name _had _been thrown around beyond the bedroom door. While groaning and rubbing his eye Bruce tried to convince himself today would be a good day. Fighting between Pepper and Tony wasn't uncommon, but a tiff of this nature was.

Pepper sounded like she was seconds away from a meltdown. Or a panic attack. Tony seemed better off, but was clearly shaken. His reassurances and logic were as cracked as his voice. He was beginning to adopt an alarmed tone of voice.

Bruce knew he had to get up and investigate. The Other Guy was too awake for him to sit idly by or feign sleep. Pepper and Tony's worry seemed to have its own fragrance; it was enough to snare the beast within him. Emerging in a pair of cotton pants and an old white shirt, Bruce tried not to shrink before their heated figures. He tried not to feel inadequate or homely, too; walking around with stubble and in pajamas wasn't common for him.

Nope. He was usually clean-shaven and well-dressed by now. And Pepper was typically working on files and handling Tony's calls at this hour. Tony, as per the usual, was being a smart aleck or trying to bring out The Other Guy (if he wasn't blowing off meetings, that was). For a brief moment he wondered how Coriander was sleeping through all the—

_Oh_, Bruce felt his eyes physically widen as they landed on bundle of small, pale flesh with long, dark hair and big green eyes. She was confusingly young to be Coriander, but Bruce _knew _that's who it was. The little girl was wrapped haphazardly in a nine-times-too-big Stark Solutions sweatshirt. Her face was red with tears and crinkled in distress.

Before the flashbacks about his own childhood could halt him completely, Bruce took the Cori from Pepper. He didn't say anything. Just took. If he said anything it would be piercing and hurtful to his friends. They didn't need that…not when considering their states.

Seeing crying children pierced him on an emotionally intimate level. He just…couldn't let it happen. Didn't want it to. The wealth of dark hair and fatness in her cheeks told Bruce Cori was now around two or three years old. It was because of his personally shitty childhood and because of the doctor within him that Bruce began to soothe the baby Cori had become.

Her little face eventually lightened. She no longer sniffled and sounded like a sputtering sprinkler. Now Bruce could get some answers. How she responded would help him determine her new – hopefully temporary – age. "What's wrong?" Bruce asked softly.

"Tony, Pepper sad." she replied, eyes beginning to shine with new tears. _Two or three word sentences. She has to be two_, he found himself thinking.

"Why are Tony and Pepper sad?"

"I small!"

"They're upset because you're small?"

She nodded. Bruce carefully wiped an escaped tear from her cheek. "No cry." he mumbled against her hair, pressing her gently against his cheek. Babies liked to feel surrounded, warm, and loved. It kept them calm. Gave their little minds sensations to register.

"Tony's very smart. You know that. He'll get you fixed!" promised Bruce, bouncing her slightly. He was thankful that Pepper had affixed a diaper to her; Bruce could feel it conform to his arm and her bottom. The genius could only assume Coriander had been a baby longer than what he knew about. She sniffed and curled into his neck. Walking down the hall generated a light current of air; a scent most foul quickly became apparent.

Bruce held her at arm's length, gauging the smell's strength. He'd spent more than enough time in dilapidated villages to know what bodily waste smelled like. But, just to confirm it, he asked: "Did you…you know…use the bathroom?"

Cori nodded. _Their argument easily could've upset her to the point of urination_, Bruce realized. He refused to change Cori's diaper, though. It was _Cori_. She'd been a fully-functional twenty-six-year-old yesterday! And they were kind of…well…whatever they were.

It wasn't happening. Pepper would do it.

JARVIS informed him that Tony and Pepper were in the labs reviewing footage. Trying to discern how her transformation happened. Searching for a cure. "She needs changing, Pepper." announced Bruce.

Pepper looked like her old self now. She was less hysterical and more curious. Determined. Sighing reluctantly, she requested JARVIS search through the newly purchased bags of baby paraphernalia to find wipes and a diaper. The AI quickly responded by lowering a flexible metal arm from a sliding panel in the laboratory ceiling, blue-bagged wipes and a flower-covered diaper in hand.

It was common knowledge that babies fought during diaper changes. Cried in distress because the wipes were cold and wet. Bruce's prior knowledge didn't help his fragile control. The Other Guy was already alert because of Tony and Pepper's fight, because of the cocktail of hormones they were exuding. A crying baby may be the thing to sever his control completely.

The Other Guy knew he had a sore spot for sobbing children. Knew he wanted to hide from his past. Wanted few reminders. Cori wiggled, thrashed, and squealed bloody murder as Pepper gingerly wrestled her cleaned buttocks into a new diaper. Pieces of his own childhood flashed by, quicker than the first time, and Bruce couldn't take it.

Pepper did nothing but hold Cori carefully as a large shadow fell over the lab. Hulk knew to squat so the lights wouldn't be damaged. Right now he didn't _care _about the lights. He wanted to give Tony's woman a _long_, _hard _stare to let her know little Cori would not be treated that way. Aware that Bruce was highly sensitive to emotional children, Hulk decided that Pepper wouldn't have little Cori at all.

He would. And he would keep her until they figured out a way to fix this mess. Were it not for Bruce, he wouldn't know how to treat children. But, he had Bruce. Bruce's memories taught him how to _not _treat children; that alone should make him alright for the self-appointed task, Hulk assumed.

Pepper wordlessly handed over Cori, who'd just been put back in her sweatshirt. She knew better than to defend her actions or point out that Cori wasn't _actually _hurt. The redhead stared in mild amazement as her boyfriend's best friend's giant hands tenderly supported the child. Coriander looked like a speck of Stark Solutions lint in his hands.

But, judging by the look on Hulk's face, she was a very safe piece of lint. Pepper – for the first time – could see the gears turning in the 'giant rage monster's head. He seemed to be acutely aware of the fragile thing in his palms and how he dwarfed her. Cori peeked down at them from between his fingertips. She laughed, waved one chubby hand, and proceeded to disappear behind Hulk's massive finger like Pepper was playing a game of hide and seek with her. "Work!" Hulk pointed a long, thick finger at Pepper and Tony.

His voice made it clear that he wasn't asking.

"Will do!" Tony grinned up at the gigantic version of his friend. He saluted just for shits and giggles.

"Tony's woman make sure Tony work! Hulk take care of Cori."

"O-okay." Pepper nodded to let him know he understood. Satisfied, Hulk wandered through Stark Tower until he arrived at the only room capable of being an entertaining child's jail: the Smash Room. The green giant had to admit seeing a chubby-legged Cori try to run in a ridiculously large shirt was funny. All he could see was the general shape of her little feet bumping the bottom as she stumbled over her only clothing. It was funny until she fell.

Falling created whimpering. Hulk didn't like whimpering. Padding over to the miniature version of his housemate, Hulk carefully lifted up the excess material. It frayed and separated fairly easy, considering his strength, and he even made Cori laugh again! The sound of a child's laughter was foreign and heart-warming.

She apparently thought him taking away the unnecessary cloth was a type of dragging game. Cori rolled over, now free and stable, and sat expectantly on the patch of cloth he'd dropped to the ground. Mashing his finger to it, dragging it towards his body, he pulled the young girl across the floor. The dark-haired child erupted into untamed laughter, praising him with the sloppy clap of her hands. Her free and generous delight made Hulk feel warm inside.

He wasn't so bad at this babysitting thing after all! It wasn't as easy as he'd assumed, though. Cori's attention span was poor. Her focus jumped from place to place, and Hulk was constantly following her around the room. She toyed with what pieces of artificial Manhattan she could reach.

In less than five minutes she'd tried to jiggle a stop sign, open the door to a fake building, climb up a car, and almost got her hand stuck in a semi-realistic sewer grate. Hulk actually had to warp the piece so her hand wouldn't get caught. The near-accident was startling; he didn't realize kids were so curious! Cautiously removing the unscented sewer grate jangled some of the larger pieces. A large model of the full moon was separated from its suspension.

Hearing it snap, ever aware to make up for Cori's inability to look out for herself, Hulk instinctually smacked it away. It connected hard with the wall…hard enough to scare Cori. Her tears and fear was quickly abandoned in favor of investigation. "Egg!" she pointed proudly to the jagged halves of the detailed moon. The whitish-gray ball was heavily dented and, to some extent, resembled a boiled egg with no yolk.

"Not egg." Hulk corrected. "Moon. Was moon."

"Now it he'met!" Cori declared, picking up one Styrofoam-like piece to turn it over and place it on her head. Hulk laughed. It was much too big for her tiny skull but she tried to run around with it anyways. After dropping it and picking it up a few times, Cori decided to turn it over and slide it across the floor. She made little _vroom! _noises with her mouth as she bustled about the room.

Her pretend car circled Hulk's feet. Hulk wiggled his toes absently, willing himself to stay still. She caught the flex of his toes and abandoned her toy to play with his feet. Hulk gave a soft, half-hearted laugh. Cori laughed, too.

Winding her little arms as best she could around his ankle, Cori held on. "Ride!" said the little girl as she bounced slightly, "Ride!" Hulk carefully started walking through Stark Tower, mindful of the fragile weight on his foot. Cori enjoyed going up and down; enjoyed seeing things from up above and then up close when his foot connected with the floor. He'd barely passed the kitchen when she rolled off and crawled for the entrance. Not too happy with her sudden absence, Hulk crouched at the kitchen entrance with the intent to reprimand.

Cori looked up at him, needing a larger person and aware that her big playmate was waiting on her. "Yum yum!" explained the girl as if it were very simple. Hulk's somewhat unhappy face relaxed. Right. Even small people have to eat!

"Fin' yum yum!" she placed her tiny hands around his pink, leading him into the kitchen. Hulk's eyes fell on the plastic bags that were undoubtedly Pepper's purchases. He poked one massive finger in there, feeling glass jars, plastic, toys, and clothes. He pinched a long, cylindrical container as best he could, but it crumpled under the pressure. Star-shaped edibles rained down onto the kitchen floor.

Cori was quick to gobble them up, tiny feet stopping, spinning, and running to the next uneaten piece. Hulk wanted to remind her that they didn't eat off the floor, but let it slide. She seemed to be hungry. And was quiet. Focused.

"More yum yum!" she held out her tiny hand. Hulk handed over the canister. Cori spent a few moments sitting on the floor, figuring out the best way to retrieve her food. "Hand." Coriander pointed to Hulk's hand.

"Hulk no want."

"For me!" she insisted. Hulk gradually lowered his hand. Cori sat in it, dumping out the contents of the canister. His hand was large and warm. She was pleased with her fleshy plate.

Hulk carried her back to the Smash Room while she ate. Coriander finished the whole canister of snack puffs. Her little tummy was so full! She laid down in his malleable hand, dazed by her recent feast. The Other Guy cooed absently – an echo of Bruce – as she sucked the tip of her thumb.

His coo slightly disturbed her mounting sleepiness. Hulk shifted his large form until he was on his back. Putting her on his chest, while he was on his back, decreased the chance of her getting hurt. She quit sucking her thumb long enough to send him a sleepy look of curiosity.

Why was he being still? Why the quiet? "Nap now." Hulk murmured softly. With her belly full and a soft, warm bed, Cori had no problem with that. A hint of her older self remained; it was fighting to reclaim her body. Somewhere in her she realized playing and living as a two-year-old was very taxing.

Almost like being two all over again. It was exactly that, actually.

_"Erm…Doctor Banner?"_

Hulk's eyelids fluttered, breaking the brief spell of sleep he didn't know he'd entered. He heard a voice. Where was the voice? Oh wait…that's right…Tony had an invisible talking robot in the house. The giant relaxed with Bruce's help.

"Not Banner." grumbled Hulk quietly.

_"Well, uh, Mr. _Hulk_, you're presence is requested in the lab. Mr. Stark has figured out how to cure Coriander."_

Shifting his little charge to the crook of his arm, wrapping her in the strip of sweatshirt left behind from earlier, Hulk returned to the lab. "Tony know how fix Cori?"

"Yep. Got it all figured out, Big Guy! When Cori put a blanket over Bruce last night she activated that prototype reduction device we'll soon be implementing into my armor. The one that decreased incoming heat damage?"

"How that make Cori turn little?"

"It was configured to reduce damage. It's a prototype, however. I assume it read Cori's body heat, recognized its cellular and neural origins, and reduced it at the source. Ergo, we have a baby Cori!"

"Tony make better now?"

"Yep. I'll just reverse the frequency! I've also added a few chips and filters to better specify how it can handle multiple sources of heat the next time around." Tony showcased the modified device with pride.

"What now?"

"Set her down on the lab table." instructed Tony, slipping on the device like he would one of his repulsor gloves. Hulk was hesitant about putting her on a cold surface, about disrupting her nap, but he trusted Tony. For Banner's nerves and his own, Hulk had to turn away. The idea of a child being shot – even if the child was Cori, even if the shooter was Tony and Tony knew what he was doing – did not sit well with them.

_Tsssst! Woo!_

Cori's soft breathing abruptly stopped, cut off by a snort he recognized all too well. Hulk relaxed, allowing Banner a chance for freedom that he hadn't seen since the diaper change. When he turned around, looking slightly fatigued and partially dressed, a sleepy, grumpy Cori waited on him. She wasn't mad at Bruce, but Tony. "Jerk!" she growled, trying to kick him despite the fact he stood a wise foot away, "I was sleeping!"

Yeah…she was back.

"Woah-oh!" Tony teased, "Someone's having a temper tantrum!"

"Bite me, Tony!"

"Want to take care of this, Bruce?"

"Nope. Babysitting hours are over."


	24. What the Customer Wants

We Need to Quit Meeting like This

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**AN: **Finally over a _god awful _three-day stomach bug! Still recovering, but I'm to the point where I can sit up, write, and eat. I'll be taking a few days off to readjust, finish classes, and complete the latest chapter of _Waiting on Love_. I need to update _Romancing Captain Rogers_, also.

Thanks to Whenever she is raging, Miko Hayashi, Maymayliu, Dark Moons and Whispered Words, and kiwi8fruit for reviewing the last chapter :D.

This idea is credited to Miko Hayashi. The Bruce-Cori wedding dance was supposed to be next, but I just found this one too amusing to wait on it xD. Slightly smutty. Involves tipsy Bruce.

I do not own _Ǽon Flux_ or the character. I'm just using the idea of her. And if anyone's seen the movie, I'm not using the movie costume. I'm using the anime/comic costume.

If anyone is interested in my original work, _Waiting on Love_ (that I may or may not start uploading to Fiction Press), here's a teaser from the incomplete-but-in-progress chapter twelve:

**Nikolai's mouth thinned into a twitching line of seriousness. Kelly took the trembling of his lips as his pre-camera ritual. She assumed he was going over the lines in his head as he allowed only the briefest hint of every other syllable freedom. Unable to speak, afraid that he would agree with her and allude to Gershwin's plan, Nikolai settled for dropping a kiss on the knuckles of her left hand. It pained him to watch Kelly unknowingly walk into her own death; he wanted to shoot Anya where she stood...but he couldn't.**

**That wasn't in the script. Kelly had to die. He had to pull the trigger.**

**Frustrated, Nikolai's fingers ripped zigzag trails through his blonde hair. Anya gave him a demanding, scalding glare from the left of Joseph Creswell. Settling himself, catching the slight wiggle of the clapboard, Nikolai swallowed. He felt Joseph lean slightly to the right, laying the foundation for their fake struggle over the gun he didn't know was loaded. Most of the arguing and goading between the murderous personality and Anya, the ghost of a woman he'd gone insane trying to impress in his younger years, was done in the last scene.**

**He was only supposed to offset the gun's angle. Not nudge Joseph's finger out of the way and pull the trigger. The clapboard clicked once, echoing sharply and nearly masking the sound of the gun. "Shit!" Joseph began to hyperventilate with panic like Kelly, "She's been shot! She's bleeding!"**

**"Am…am I _dying_?" Kelly squeaked out curiously, her voice pinched with panic. She craned her neck to gaze at Nikolai for confirmation; it seemed unreal that she'd die in a safe, carefully monitored environment when an explosion and a rooftop shooter hadn't killed her. Her green eyes were wide and glittered with fear. Anya quickly planted herself by Kelly's left shoulder. Nikolai crouched to her right; relief washed over him at the sight of Kelly firmly putting pressure on the oozing packets hidden beneath the padding.**

**Carefully masking her delight with a compassionate, calm smile, Anya brushed red hair from Kelly's face. Instead of whispering something comforting, Anya sweetly informed, "Yes. Yes you are."**

What do you guys think?

Mmm…ironically, I haven't gotten to that part in MS Word yet. Still building up to it. I knew a scene/sentence I wanted to use, and copied it onto a sticky note so I could upload it, but once I put it here it just took off! Sorry for the length (don't want to give any hints to the plot in case I end up uploading it to Fiction Press)!

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What the Customer Wants

"C'mon, Bruce!"

"No, Tony. No. For the last time, _no_!"

"Who agreed to let me do a brain scan about The Other Guy?"

"I did." admitted Bruce after a moment or two of silence. The smoke alarm he was supposed to be modifying was steadily losing his interest. He didn't like Tony's casual, smug tone of voice. To hell with Clint and his ability to send the detectors screaming with his arrows! Bruce sensed a threat to his normal routine; it made him uncomfortable.

"Who insisted on spearheading the report describing the image scans?"

"I did."

"And who deduced that The Other Guy is a primal creature that can be _slightly _calmed if allowed to partake in the baser aspects of the male physiology?"

"I…did…" Bruce's eyes narrowed. He was no longer cautious and aware of Stark's dawdling way of speaking. Now he was _suspicious_.

"So why do you keep telling me no if you _know _you need this?"

"B-because!" stammered Bruce, and that was the best he could manage. Tony knew of his condition! That should be all he _needed _to say on the matter!

"Look…" Tony slung an arm around Bruce's shoulder, "Just try it, okay? This is the first time you've discovered it. If not, it's the first time you've admitted The Other Guy _can _be controlled in a way that doesn't make you seem like a dusty monk. One look, that's all I ask!"

"Fine." a man of Bruce's age didn't pout. He just frowned and pushed his glasses up on his nose, hoping that would better amplify the displeasure he felt at Tony harassing him. Living in Stark Tower meant not being able to escape Tony. Being fond of science also decreased his chances of escaping the pressure of Tony's unending, good-natured insistency.

"Fantastic!" cheered Tony, guiding Bruce into the halls. He needed something a bit snazzier than a purple shirt with rolled up sleeves and a pair of gray pants. Tony was confident and giddy in his nicely buttoned suit, tie, and slacks. Bruce looked nervous but scholarly in an unbuttoned gray suit, pale purple undershirt, gray pants, and black loafers. Though Tony wasn't happy that he refused to wear more color, he thought his friend looked ready to impress.

"Maybe it won't be all bad." Bruce's lips puckered crookedly as he stared out the car window. Tony dialed down the volume of the rock music, quirking an eyebrow at Banner in a silent invitation to continue. Bruce didn't usually change his tune that easily. "It'll still be a scientific opportunity. Think of all the silicone, Tony!" Tony unleashed a barking laugh.

_There _was the Banner he knew! When roped into something he didn't necessarily want to do Bruce was witty and humorously sarcastic. Slightly grumpy, like someone who'd been woken up before their time. Bruce let himself have a small laugh.

"So…where are we going, exactly?"

"You'll see. And you'll thank me. The Other Guy will _love _this!"

* * *

Bruce knew he should've run when Tony pulled up to a place called Titillation. Especially when the word was written in cursive by neon lights. He absently balked at the wiry neon form of a woman in falling clothes standing beside the word. The doctor in him, the genius in him, knew that this was no place for him…no place for a man with his condition. His hands curled stubbornly around the door, unyielding until Tony forcibly, gently extracted him and muttered something about 'In the name of science, Bruce!'.

"You're gonna love it. If you don't, well, think of it as a game. Everyone in here dresses up as a movie character! See how many you can guess!"

"You're cruel, Tony…" Bruce frowned, half-stumbling into the club. His heart raced as he stopped to memorize the people. A running man like him was used to tracking people, to gauging the movement and life of an area. The interesting name and teasing image was a misleading front, Bruce thought. Titillation was actually calm on the inside.

There were no wildly screaming men throwing money at scantily clad women. In fact…it seemed to be part _restaurant_! Bruce shuffled his foot absently across the carpet beneath his feet, visually following a velvet path that ended in a _T_. Running horizontally along the top of the _T _was a lengthy bar area. Said bartender was in the center of many posh, padded booths and futuristic glass and steel tables.

Triangular lamps hung overhead, their neon hues dimmed but encompassing. The strictly white, silver, and black décor was given some color and softness with those bluish-purple lights. A few women in scanty costumes dutifully circled around the occupied tables. Bruce stared curiously down the portion of the _T_ hallway leading to the right. Nothing was labeled here; it was a long, inviting corridor with the same carpet and caramel lighting. Tony sat him in a padded booth, allowing him the right side because Bruce didn't like to have his back to people.

"What is this place, Tony?"

"Titillation, Bruce. Did you not read the sign?"

"Kind of had to! I mean, you can't miss it! What_ is_ this place!" hissed Bruce at him, ducking his head reflexively. It was almost _shameful _to be seen in a place like this! Media taboos and the general opinions about places like this had him feeling shameful without any real guilt being present.

"Oh." Tony was just being an ass now. Enjoying the way Bruce squirmed. "It's a bit of everything: restaurant, bar, and _entertainment_."

"Is that legal?"

"With the way their terms are written and how the interaction is structured, yes it is." Tony answered. "I'm going to get a drink. Want one?"

"No." he shook his head adamantly. This experiment was already risky enough. Alcohol didn't need to be factored in. Excusing himself, Tony approached the bar. He came back without a drink, much to Bruce's surprise.

"Waitresses deliver to cut down on traffic. It lets the bartender do his job in peace." explained Tony.

"You know a lot about this place." Bruce squinted suspiciously at this friend. Did Pepper know he was here? How long had Tony been going here? How long had _this _been planned? Tony chuckled.

"Easiest way to do business is with a distraction, Bruce! And I may have brought Steve here, but let's not talk about that disaster." Tony made a very serious face and waved one hand as if to push the mention away. Bruce could only nod. His logic was twisted, but good.

"Here we are gentlemen, two scotches!"

"_Two _scotches?" Bruce glared at Tony. The billionaire merely smiled, toasting him with the shot. Their black-clad waitress began to back off, understanding Bruce's tone to mean a second hadn't been ordered.

"Don't go anywhere sweetheart. We'll—_Cori_?" Tony's eyes widened in disbelief. His 'not' child was in _quite _the ensemble. While Pepper would take this time to exercise her lecturing skills on their twenty-six 'not' child, Tony was a man with a different mind. He asked, "Are you Ǽon Flux?"

Her cringe and posture relaxed slightly. Cori had bunched up the second all casual conversation stopped. She was like a cowering child awaiting punishment. "Yeah." she murmured.

"What's going on?" Bruce didn't understand. "Why are you here in a place like _this_?"

"It's complicated." she shook her head. "And a mistake."

"Explain!" offered Bruce, nearly throwing out his hands with the demand, "Explain now!"

"I'm studying for a promiscuous character. I didn't feel totally comfortable with it, and Ms. Lovell saw that. A cousin of hers works here. She thought me getting exposure to this type of character and environment would help me relax about it."

"And?" Bruce pressed. How did that translate into…into _leather _and _straps _and _buckles_ and her backside being in a bikini bottom-like piece?!

"And apparently her cousin and I look alike. _Very_ alike."

"Where is this cousin?" Tony inquired curiously, amusement beginning to twist his lips into a smirk.

"No idea. In the wind. I put my ID and purse in her locker, too! I can't get it out until she comes back. _If _she comes back…"

"Why not go tell the manager about the mix up?" Bruce thought the solution was obvious enough. Cori pursed her lips, thinning them and pinning him with a look that said she'd already considered it.

"He's thinking about firing her." revealed Cori. "I figured if I did this she'd be able to keep her job. And, you know, Ms. Lovell won't hate me."

"I doubt your teacher would hate you for the mistakes of her cousin." Bruce reasoned.

"It'd just be awkward. It's not all bad! Look at the tips I made!" Cori turned to showcase the sides of her clinging shiny black boots. Tony's small smile of amusement shrunk. His 'not' child wouldn't enjoy this profession! He wouldn't allow it!

"When do you get off?" Tony began to formulate a plan. Unbeknownst to Bruce, he was a key figure in that plan.

"In about an hour. Look…I've got to take this bourbon to table nine. I'll keep you posted, alright?" Cori walked away, light playing off the buckles in a pendulum fashion. Bruce frowned.

"I hope they screen the people who come in here. Having them walk around like…like _that _is just an open invitation for trouble." he nudged his glass of scotch towards Tony. Stark consumed it with little thought.

"I'm sure they do, Bruce. If not, they'd be open to a hell of a lawsuit." Tony assured.

Bruce wanted to counter his sureness by suggestion his friend look around. These women were dressed to draw in business and money. Often times, like with larger corporations, it was about the profit and not the people. He was worried for Coriander; he could see the bottoms of her breasts for crying out loud! It wouldn't take many drinks for someone to think they could just reach up and unzip the small leather jacket strategically covering the rest of her bosoms.

It was a thought he couldn't stomach easily. She and Tony were close, and Tony had become something of a close friend. Maybe the _only_ friend Bruce had really had in a while. He couldn't leave it to chance or the assumption that safeguards were in place on her behalf. Doing so would be an insult to Tony and Cori.

"Being sure of something isn't good enough, Tony. You know how people can be." pointed out Bruce. Sure, he'd only dealt with Obadiah, Hammer, and an insane Russian, but that was just the tip of the iceberg where crazy, seedy people were concerned.

"That's why I always have a plan, Bruce."

"What's your plan?" Bruce dared to ask.

"Drink up." instructed Tony. "Ordering more drinks keep her coming to our table."

"I already told you, Tony, I'm not drinking!"

"Sip, then!"

"Look, I'm not—"

"Hey, you don't want to keep her away from the lechers and perverts, that's fine by me." Tony shrugged nonchalantly. It was a low blow and he knew it. Frowning, muttering something about blackmail, Bruce _sipped _the scotch. His face quickly gave away that he wasn't a big drinker; Bruce couldn't help the disgusted scrunch of his face as he swallowed the drink with a slightly medicinal taste. Scotch had been described in a myriad of unappetizing ways.

If he had to describe it, it would not be anything tasty.

He forced himself to swallow, though, because Tony could not accept the burden alone. That, and Pepper wouldn't be happy if he came home sloshed. Bruce's altruistic act was quickly turning into a deed-gone-wrong. Cori kept returning to dole out drinks, but he gradually left. The bar was hazy on the edges of his vision.

Her voice was a distorted, delayed murmur.

Those sips were catching up with him. Tony realized this, too. He went up to the bar and specifically asked for Cori (the girl in the Ǽon Flux costume, rather, as he didn't know the real girl's name), feigning interest in a private dance. Bruce was in no condition to keep drinking, and Pepper didn't like it when he indulged too heavily. Inviting her over would ensure that The Other Guy didn't come out.

Bruce would act as the barrier keeping her from other men, also. It was a win-win as far as Tony was concerned. Admittedly, Cori wanted to run when the bartender handed her the key with 06 on it. What the hell was she supposed to do with that? She was _not _having sex with…with some _guy _just to save Lovell's cousin's job!

But, to her relief, he'd been giving her the same number he'd given her all night. It was the table where Tony and Bruce sat. Since Tony would assuredly go to some form of hell or get sick at the mere thought of engaging her like that, she assumed it was for Bruce. Likely a lie or some sort of scheme, but for Bruce. "Hey, I'm—woah, Bruce!"

"H-_hey_, you!" Bruce perked up slightly, not expecting Coriander to pop up like that. He chuckled at the suddenness of it all. She frowned deeply at his rosy cheeks and semi-focused, glossy eyes.

"Alright…c'mere, Bruce." Cori motioned for him to stand. To her surprise, Bruce stood with only moderate trouble. He bumped his knee on the table, and tried to sidestep it (which only made him fall into it). She draped his left arm over her shoulder, sidestepping to help him out into the open. "Tony's got a room set up for you. Let's go. You can lay down, stay still, and, you know, keep from getting hurt!" joked Cori as she half-dragged the half-stumbling man down the hall to door 06.

"A r'm? Why? Wh…wha 'bout Tony?"

"Tony's fine." Cori unlocked the room. It was nicely furnished in black, cherry, gold, and dark brown. One large, plush sofa sat against the wall mere inches from the door. Across the room, taking up the back corner, was a crimson canopy bed. Between the bed and couch was an armchair. To the back right was a miniature version of the outside bar; atop its surface sat unlit candles, a nude strip of silk, champagne, and glasses.

She put him on the couch. Thinking he was falling, Bruce's arms snaked around Cori's waist for support. They collapsed in a heap on the couch. The padded cushions and soft texture felt good on Bruce's back; his foggy mind was almost relaxed enough to sleep. "You okay, Bruce?" Cori arched her back, one hand sliding up the smooth contours of Bruce's clothed chest to maneuver his chin.

He didn't need to face the seam of the couch cushions. Or look upward in case he vomited. Cori didn't need him aspirating. Bruce squinted against the overhead light, happy to see Coriander's looming figure partially blocking it. The scientist reached up to burrow his fingers beneath the fake wig and remove it. With it came the stretchy nude cap that kept her hair contained.

It spilled out in loose waves, framing her face as it cascaded down to tickle his cheeks. Bruce pinched one end, rubbing it between his fingers. "You're so pretty." he slurred. He was vaguely aware of his decreased sensibility and shyness. At best, he was tipsy, but that was enough for confessing his pent-up feelings.

"Thanks, Bruce."

"You don't sound happy." he combed one hand through her hair, admiring the feel and smell.

"I like that you said that, but you need to be sober, Bruce. I don't want you to wake up tomorrow and regret it. To take it back. I know how you are about The Other Guy."

His face scrunched in light aggravation. "I, young lady, am…am not drunk!"

"Then why do you sound funny? And why is it hard for you to string together a reply?"

"I am _tipsy_, not drunk. A drunk person wouldn't be coherent enough that they were drunk. Someone who's tipsy realizes it. Just a bit…late." explained Bruce, always a person of debate and exactness.

"Well, either way. I'm going to sit in the armchair while you take the hour to come back to yourself. We can talk about this later, or tomorrow." said Cori, starting to get up. Bruce pinned her to his body with a determined swallow.

"In an hour it won't matter. It won't in a day, either. I'll be too nervous to say anything…like I always am." he whispered. She stopped, no longer trying to slip out of his strong hold.

"Bruce…are you…are you serious?" she stammered, heart fluttering.

"Very." he carefully picked his foggy, aching head up.

"And people say alcohol is a bad thing." teased Cori. He laughed.

"Usually it is. I think it was made for people like me." he joked.

"I'm surprised you're doing this well. How's The Other Guy?"

"Drunk, I think. He's quiet now…not that he wasn't earlier. He likes staring at pretty girls." Bruce grinned up at her. Cori blushed.

"Oh Bruce, stop!" Cori slapped his shoulder lightly.

"It's true!"

"So you and Tony came to this place for him?" she queried.

"No." Bruce shook his head slowly. "I didn't want to, but Tony did. Wanted to see if it would have any effect on The Other Guy's willingness to come out."

"Did it work? Did The Other Guy get what he wanted?"

"Yes. And I did too, to my surprise."

"What did you want?"

"To tell you how I felt." Bruce shrugged.

"And Tony had to organize a fake sex session for that to happen?"

"No. That was our way of keeping you occupied for an hour. Better me than someone else, right? By that, you know, I mean it _better_ be me or there's going to be smashing. Not…not that I'm forcing. Just telling…warning other men…dominance…'n protection…n' Tony…"

"And that's all you wanted? You're too sweet." Cori kissed his temple. Bruce smiled lightly.

"That's not all I want. Not now…"

"Be warned, Bruce Banner: say something out of line and you're going on the floor. Also, if you puke, you're going on the floor."

Continuing as if he never heard her, Bruce said, "I want you to never wear something like this—he pulled at the bottom part of her attire—again. It's just not you. I don't like it."

"I don't like it, either, but you already know the story behind this."

"I know."

"Anything else?" she asked in a humorous, mocking tone.

"I want you to lie down and be my pillow. I've got you for the hour, and I need to get over this alcohol-induced hell."

"I think I can help with that." Cori slipped from his lap at the release of pressure on her back. Bruce rolled over long enough for her to lay on the couch. He rolled back over, snuggling into her supple flesh. "Bruce…get off my boobs…I mean, you're cute and everything, but there's buckles, straps, and cold, hard things on them."

"I don't want to."

"Bruce—"

"I'm the customer!" he reminded, shifting his face higher up to keep the full weight of his face off her bosoms. "And—"

"And the customer always gets what they want." Cori finished for him. She'd learned that mantra while at Starbucks. Heaving a small sigh, she continued to stroke his dark curls as the scientist drifted off to sleep.


	25. What Love Child Should Mean

We Need to Quit Meeting like This

* * *

**AN:** Sorry for the long absence. Hectic holidays! I'll be updating again tomorrow (most likely _Romancing Captain Rogers_ and then this) if I can iron out some pressing college issues. I tried to think of something appropriate for a Christmas/New Year's update, but couldn't quite think of anything I was overly excited about. For lack of things to write concerning this couple, I may throw up the Christmas one-shot idea I had (if I can remember it).

This idea is credited to Miko Hayashi. It involves pregnancy and hormones, so if either one of those is not for you, do not read :D. You have been warned :D. Slight pregnancy smuttiness ensues.

Miko, dear, I just want to hug your face until the end of time. You've been so lovely with your unending ideas. I truly, honestly thank you xD.

I think my smut-maker is broken. I should take a small break from this booklet until the parts are ordered and it's fixed .

This feels like crap to me T_T.

Also, just a side note of curiosity: does anyone know or would anyone care to play Gaara of _Naruto_ in a roleplay? I have one going, but I'd like another. I'm thinking of going back to one of the first fandoms I ever wrote for and would like to start with my favorite character. Details and questions of who I would be playing for the responder can be discussed over PMs :D.

Much appreciated!

* * *

What "Love Child" SHOULD Mean

"Bruce…." Cori sang seductively in his ear, fingers slipping beneath his unguarded armpits to branch out and flutter across every inch of his shirted chest. Bruce jumped at her sudden presence, snatching his hand away from the tablet and pen-sized searing device Tony had recently patented. The spell of intense work was broken; sounds of Stark Tower, JARVIS, and his pregnant wife settled around him.

"I-I a-asked you not to sneak up on me like that." stuttered Bruce as he swallowed hard and tried to very carefully untangle himself from his wife. He couldn't just jump and swing around like a wild animal. Or play-wrestle his way out. She was carrying his child! Bruce shuddered as the bump brushed against his back.

Her swollen stomach met his lower abdomen when he finally turned around. Cori seemed to glow - like every pregnancy book and internet site said she would – and batted made up eyes at him. "I had to do _something_." his young wife insisted, lacing their fingers together, "You've been in here _all day_!"

She was right. He was hiding because the whole _baby_ situation was nerve-racking. Tony also honestly needed him in the labs. Bruce had hoped long hours in the lab would somehow feed into discreet search on how expecting fathers relaxed. Because, at the moment, he couldn't.

Bruce, like Hulk, was abuzz with surprise. His DNA would be carried in a _child_! He'd been lucky enough to find a resting place and someone to take his name! "I-I know." Bruce managed to cough out, "But I needed to, uh, unwind. You know how work soothes me."

"I do." his pregnant wife purred, ring glistening under the lab lights as her hands traveled up his chest until they came to a stop atop his shoulders. She gave them a relaxing squeeze. "And you know what soothes _me_?" Cori cocked her head innocently to the side, snuggling up as best she could to her husband. Bruce's cock jumped up as if it could register the want oozing from her sultry tone.

Cori's hormones were perhaps the _worst_ part of her pregnancy. Her mood – like her tastes – was a revolving door. She'd be incredibly horny, pawing at him and breaking him down until he could no longer stand it, and then turn him away in exhaustion or frustration when he finally caved hours later. Crossing paths with a pregnant woman – _no, being married to one, _Bruce corrected himself – was almost as dangerous as battling Loki.

"What?" Bruce answered her question, wary of souring her mood.

"You." chirped his wife, nails falling to clink against his belt buckle before they drifted lower to cup and caress his concealed length. Bruce trembled on unsteady legs. He was naturally unbalanced where hormones were concerned. Pairing him with a temporarily unstable WIFE was extremely unwise. Very dangerous for Stark Tower.

Hulk, like him, didn't know what to make of the situation. Cori was horny, but already pregnant. Sex should be avoided for the benefit of the child. And yet…she wanted it. Maybe more than before she was pregnant!

Loving his wife was like a commandment of marriage. Something he'd happily do. But, since her pregnancy, Bruce never knew what that faithful obedience would bring him. Sometimes it was nothing but cuddling, sweet nothings, and coddling the life that fattened her. Other times, well…it ended with boxes of tissues and a lengthy argument on why she was NOT a moo cow and was still attractive.

Bruce resisted to save himself the headache. He didn't feel like playing Russian roulette with his wife's emotions. Not when they were both emotionally taxed by the unborn child. On the one hand, though…she had some _amazing _techniques. Regular intercourse was good for him, or so Stark and related science said.

It kept him from bottling up his urges and lovingly trapping Cori in the bedroom for a passionate, overdue release. Regular release also made the Hulk more sociable with others. Bruce thought it strengthened their bond, too. Made inner communication easier.

"You need soothing?" Bruce clarified, turning away from the lab table. "What's got you so stressed?"

The team made every effort to keep her calm and cozy. There was hardly anything for her to fret over, Bruce thought. Especially with Tony's money and Hulk's protectiveness.

"That I can't take care of my _wonderful_, _sexy_ husband because he's always busy!" Cori moaned out in a perfected voice of mock hurt. Bruce sighed, relaxing and rolling his head as the fingers of her right hand scratched through his dark curls.

"You want to take care of _me_?" Bruce mimicked her purr and innocent tone. Cori grinned, nodding slightly.

"I think I should take care of _you_." he replied, tapping her nose gently with one finger.

"Is it because I scared you the other night in bed?" queried his wife. Bruce said nothing as his cheeks darkened with blood. That was exactly it, actually. Her desires reached a hot peak that couldn't be sated and threatened to burn her up from the inside. Instead of waking her dear doctor of a husband, Cori took it upon herself to fix her own problem.

Just…using her husband. That was a HELL of a way to wake up, Bruce thought. She'd never once performed oral on him before the pregnancy. Receiving it with a neediness that jarred him from sleep surely stopped his heart. He certainly saw stars and a bright light!

The adamant pump of her fisted hand around his engorged cock was the CPR, he imagined. She kept him alive and breathed life into him as his orgasm painted the back of her throat. The scrape of her teeth across his veined length was like shock therapy. Bruce yelped loud enough to activate JARVIS and lock down measures, but the house returned to normal within minutes. From then on out Bruce learned not to deny his wife, and to go with her wants when they arose.

"No." answered Bruce carefully.

"You liar!" she teased, thankfully in a laughing mood. Bruce blushed. "I AM sorry about that, by the way."

"Don't be." Bruce quickly shook his head. "I _quite_ enjoyed that."

"And I would _quite_ enjoy for you to return the favor." Cori kissed her husband's cheek before mapping a trail across his face with feather kisses.

"Anything for you, Mrs. Banner." doctors were supposed to be readily available, right? Wiggling her toes in delight, purring like some contented kitten, Cori gently pushed his head down. Bruce allowed her to lead, folding his body and compressing himself until his nose pointed at her womanhood. She laced her pale, soft legs around his neck. The scent of her sweet skin could still drive him crazy, Bruce noted as his mouth began to water.

Tony and the others wanted her to move as little as possible. So did the doctor. That meant she hardly needed to set foot outside of Stark Tower. Most of her wardrobe was low-key because of that fact. Bruce gingerly tugged down the sweatpants, inhaling the raw scent of femininity that soaked her green panties.

She truly was sweet – in personality, mentality, and taste. Bruce had nearly, accidentally suffocated himself the first time he sampled her sweet juices. He'd forgotten how long it had been. Hulk never wanted the trickle of sweetness to end. Cori's fingers wound lovingly and impatiently in his curls, guiding his face deeper into her pink folds as his tongue stroked and glided across every inch of her.

Cori was already hopelessly on edge. Pregnancy hormones were a bitch. She felt like a constantly taut string in need of snapping or release. The young woman mewed his name, hands gently rolling his head to achieve the rotating effect she desired. Bruce's tongue was strong, moist, and highly adaptive to her ever-changing needs.

She knew the dexterity of his tongue well. The man had learned to speak many languages over the course of the years. That skill and fluidity aided him well now. Bruce seemed to find the spots of her she didn't know existed; the doctor in him was aware of all the intimate crevices of her womanhood. Her warm body, the scent of her femininity, surrounded him like a fleshy blanket.

Bruce found himself enjoying relations with his wife. Enjoying the fact that she wasn't trying to claw his eyes out. The genius had avoided her for the better, similar to how people hide in the storm cellar to let a tornado pass. He assumed she would be a raging whirlwind of hormones, rage, and disappointment concerning her "whale" figure. She wasn't; on the contrary, Cori was radiant and unfairly ready.

Banner stumbled along, drowning in her heat as he tried to play catch up. His mind was just as frazzled as his body. He felt the pressure of her orgasm build against his mouth. Bruce hummed as she released with a gravelly, low cry of satisfaction.

"That take the edge off?" asked Bruce, adjusting his glasses. She grinned breathlessly, stroking his curls fondly. He was such a good husband.

A good, sexy husband.

"Yes and no." purred Cori innocently, playing with his shirt.

"Yes and no?"

"Yes, that worked. No, it didn't take care of it all. I want _more_." Cori yanked him up as gently as possible. Bruce blushed. Coriander was rarely assertive and demanding. It was sexy, he thought. And it would give him time to "bury the test tube in her beaker".

"One more round." relented Bruce. Did he want to cap their experience? No. It was for the health of the baby. And he needed to get back to work.

"That's all I'm good for. I need a nap." Cori admitted.

"Should we stop?" Bruce wondered, ever cautious and considerate. It would hurt, and it would suck, but he would do it.

"No!" cried out Cori, horrified. "That will make the baby ugly, Bruce! Refusing a wife's craving makes ugly babies!"

"That's a myth." mumbled her husband. "And I don't think _this_ counts as a craving."

"It's a sexy craving!" defended Cori. "But, hey, if you want to run out at two a.m. for pretzel-stuffed wurst in chocolate, you be my guest!"

"I'll take _this_—Bruce waved a finger between their bodies—over pretzel-stuffed wurst any day." he assured.

"Then _take this_, Bruce." growled Cori, maneuvering herself into a primal position that tickled his inner male and the astounded Hulk watching from behind Bruce's eyes. Pregnant women were odd, the green giant decided. Odd, but enjoyable. Cori was an unpredictable ball of emotions, much like himself. Her temporary state made them feel more bonded than ever, or so the giant felt.

Bruce complied, snapping the button of his jeans and freeing the pulsating girth. His wife craved motion that was raw and quick, but Bruce was nervous. Emery was in there, still developing. She clawed at his back, struggling for that anchor and wonderfully painful closeness and friction they used to have before her pregnancy. He fulfilled that want as best he could, mindful of their growing son and the fragility of her pregnant body.

The squeeze of her walls and warmth of her flesh worked like a charm. It turned Bruce's knees to jelly and roused blazing, delicious memories of lust. There had been none of this in _six months_. Rediscovering her body and naïve sexual charms was almost as good as the first time. He selfishly wanted the bliss to go on for hours as it had their first time, but that couldn't happen now.

Nope. It had to be quick and fulfilling for them both. Bruce could feel her normally taut dancer's body slumping into his hands. Her scorching flesh leaned expectantly into his hands. His pregnant wife was getting tired.

Bruce finished within the next five thrusts. His palms fell heavily into the icy work desk. He couldn't snuggle into his wife's curves as he used to, not with his child in the way. Rooted above her, watching over her, Bruce felt proud and protective. She scratched her fingers through his chest hair, beaming up at him.

Cori felt like a boneless pile of delighted mush. Sated sex cravings carried the same blissful feeling as food cravings. She wanted nothing more than to curl up and cuddle her wonderful husband. His seed and expertise had effectively tamed the near-irrational fire of want in her. Those hormones had receded for a nap of their own; she was ready for a nap, herself.

Her husband carefully carried her to their shared bedroom after fixing their clothes and cleaning up the lab. Bruce tucked her in and kissed her head before whispering a reminder of his lab work if she came looking for him. He doubted that she would; her lashes fluttered down to rest against her cheeks almost instantly. When her hand drifted over her bellybutton, Bruce knew she was lost.

Cori couldn't go to sleep without putting her hand over Emery. It was often the last thing she did before drifting off. Bruce tucked a damp section of wavy hair behind her ear, slipping off. Tony greeted him in the lab, a large smile on his face. "And that, Brucey, is the effect of pregnancy on males. I'm thinking of writing a guide for non-superhero dads." joked Tony, rubbing his goatee.

Though it sounded like a marketing scheme, Bruce could appreciate the thought. Plenty of the in-house books said what pregnancy would be like for the WOMEN, but not the men. A guide for male survival would be fantastic. Especially with his condition. "What would you call it?" Bruce dared to ask.

"_What "Love Child" Should Mean."_ replied Tony.


	26. Bad Wiring

We Need to Quit Meeting like This

* * *

**AN: **Thanks to the Guest, Ravenclaw Slytherin, Miko Hayashi, and Of-Thieves-and-Liars for reviewing the last chapter!Have a few days off from school due to an upcoming holiday. Am quite relieved at that. Wanted to update this because I listened to "The Scientist" by Coldplay and cried. A song I fashioned around two fictional characters made me cry a lot fucking harder than anything to date. Isn't that sad? I saw a hidden meaning…a story for Bruce and Cori I needed to tell.

I'm almost ashamed at the lack of cuddliness in this booklet, to be honest. I'm going to start adding some more fluff. Bannerander needs fluff. Humans aren't ALL about sex, after all. I feel that I haven't illustrated their many dimensions and emotions accurately enough. I apologize ._.

(All requests have been noted and logged, by the way. They'll be handled in due time. This is just something I feel I _**need**_ to do for this couple).

The concept may seem choppy because I'm suddenly throwing it together, but I _promise_ it makes sense. I'll be expounding on it more through Of-Thieves-and-Liars' idea to have the Avengers' kids come back in time. Just to avoid confusion, though, here's a rundown:

Emery, Sarah, Sorrel and Julienne have formed their version of the Avengers as a "plan B" team for Fury. They come into their hero heritage, personality, and positions as they grow. During one of their first solo missions they handle a distress call originating from inside a Stark Solutions laboratory where projects and important – often otherworldly – items are held. "M.A.L.W.A.R.E" (Modified Android Lady Willingly Assuming Raunchy Exercises) a female android initially designed to calculate human responses, hormones, emotions, and situational outcomes – created to assist in field missions of seduction and the like – has found its own conscience.

It realizes what it was made for. It does not like it. Before she can collapse Avengers' tower from the inside and turn her impressive, murderous mind and technologically enhanced, attractive form on the male Avengers, Cori intervenes. Still connected to Stark Tower's circuits and databases, Malware downloads a virus and infects Cori. After several grueling months, forcible containment, and the near-death of her husband and son, she snaps back to her senses.

Malware is not satisfied. She decides to go back in time, to destroy the Avengers before a second generation could ever come about. Her mission gets unbelievably easier when Fury teases an uneasy and battle-shy Coriander with "upgrades" that will boost her technology-savvy mind. Bruce objects, saying Cori should come into her powers on her own, but Cori ultimately decides to take the upgrade. The young woman was afraid of being vulnerable…afraid of being the weak link.

Now she's afraid of the voice in her head. The voice she doesn't know belongs to Malware. To a futuristic force that's trying to destroy her odd family – and her – from the inside.

I've played with this idea for a while. I kind of want to turn it into a story 8D. It would tie into Maymayliu's memory loss prompt that she wants :D. If I did, though, it would come after the end of _Romancing Captain Rogers _which I swear to fucking _**god**_ I am updating tomorrow. Even if it's at a weird hour!

This oneshot is song-based and takes place during Malware's trip back into the "past" of the Avengers (what would be known as "the present" to a currently unmarried Coriander and Bruce Banner). Emery, Sarah, Julienne, and Sorrel haven't been born yet. Their older selves currently can't enter the past. They're hoping Bruce/the other Avengers solve Cori's problem so they don't have to reveal themselves and royally mindfuck some superheroes.

WARNING: Dark themes (namely depression, drinking, and attempted suicide). Don't like, don't read. THIS WILL BE LENGTHY!

* * *

Bad Wiring

_"You'd be a great asset to the team, Ms. Henson, no doubt about that. However, to be great, you need to _work_. You need to follow _instructions._"_

_"I'm trying!" the young girl was nearly beside herself with tears and rage. She knew she was a freak. Knew that alien had done something to her. Knew she could do something unusual. Pepper, Tony, and Bruce had vouched for her. Fury witnessed it firsthand after she embarrassed Hill. "You can't ask me to just turn it on and turn it off when I don't even know what it is! I don't need to protect them, anyways, because they're _fine!_"_

_"But there could come a time when they're not. When you stand between them and death."_

_He craved more. Desired to see the extent of her power. Fury continued to bombard her with stressful situations, simulations, and images concerning her fellow Avengers. Nothing worked, as of yet. The machines monitoring Coriander's vitals documented his failed attempts._

_Unable to take that slap in the face, Fury continued on. Coriander panted, steeling her nerves as best she could. _This was all fake_, she told herself. Tony and the others were safe. Her heart cantered with uneasiness, but in the end of it all she never truly feared for them._

_They were older, wiser, and seemed born with quick reflexes and steady heads. In a quick, unannounced motion Fury drew his gun and pointed it directly at Banner. A symphony of frantic blips filled the room. Cori's eyes were as wide as Banner's as Fury fired the weapon. Director Fury was unconcerned; The Other Guy would protect him._

_Or, he hoped, Cori would. Stark said the young woman had formed _"something"_ of a bond with the man. Apparently, he recalled, they connected over their 'freakiness'. He withheld a proud smirk as several mangled – and expensive – machines pitched themselves in a growing Banner's direction. "DON'T HURT HIM!" screamed the young woman, human half of her mind finally processing the events._

_Fury assumed the bullet was buried in one of the machines. Or had ricocheted off one, if not the large creature's body. His thunderous roar shook the research floor. Hulk's arms spread wide in effort to deflect the shielding machines and to challenge Fury. Several wires snapped as Coriander fled her testing station and ran to the massive version of her intelligent friend._

_Bruce Banner was someone she admired. He'd saved her life and given her a new perspective on it in less than a week. If there was one person on the planet who understood what it was like to be weird, to have their mind suddenly wander because of something _else _within them…something that couldn't be controlled, it was him. She couldn't lose him! _I have to touch him, I have to know he's real! That he's okay!_ Cori's mind was as shaken as her body._

_She clawed at smooth, hot skin, desperate for an anchor. Those large, strong hands cupped her. Grounded her. They closed around her with the same solidity as the notion that Bruce was alive an unharmed. Hulk cupped the object of Bruce's budding, unvoiced affection and brought her to rest against the hair beside his ear._

_She liked it there, for whatever reason. People were still hard for the giant to understand. The Other Guy had only ever known people to be judgmental, panicky, and hateful. Cori wasn't. The girl, and her actions, was still hard to figure out._

_An overwhelming desire to smash, to showcase his displeasure, caused every vein to bulge. "Easy buddy!" soothed Tony, "Easy. Just breathe. Fury makes EVERYONE mad. It's what he does. He's an ass. It's in the job description, I think."_

_"ASS!" agreed Hulk in a choked yell, not used to vocalizing his rage coherently. Words weren't his thing. He had no free hand to swing around or smash. They needed to know how angry he was!_

_Everyone else but Fury had taken cover. He stood unflinchingly before them all, impressed and disappointed. "Lower Ms. Henson, Dr. Banner. She and I need to talk."_

_"NOT BANNER! NO! NO LOWER! STAY UP HERE WITH HULK! STAY SAFE! NOT SAFE WITH FURY!"_

_"It was never about me being safe." whispered Cori as she toyed with the patch of hair by his big ear. "It was about you and Bruce."_

_His green features that were nothing but a wrongly colored amplification of Bruce twisted with surprise and…awe? How long had it been since someone stood up for him? Since someone worried about him?_

_"Put me down, Big Guy. I'll be fine."_

_Hulk reluctantly lowered her. He only entertained the idea because she was placed between his large feet. Every level that made Bruce who he was – scientist, doctor, world-wise, monster – wanted to protect her, to save her from what the world and its people had turned him into or made him out to be. Gigantic green toes inverted until Cori was pinched and trapped between them._

_"_That_ was great, but I'd rather not induce such extremes every time you go into battle."_

_"THEN DON'T!" Cori hissed at him, tears beading in her eyes. Bruce was her _friend! _How could Fury do that?!_

_"I'll need to do something." Fury told her. "Your power could be beneficial if properly tapped. It's not as obvious and as accessible like the others' talents. That needs to change."_

_"I can't change who I am! If I can't do anything then don't fucking _use_ me!"_

_"You can't change who you are." Fury nodded in agreement. "But I can."_

_"…what?"_

_"Your mind connects with software and technology. Let me upgrade you. Enhance you." offered Fury._

_"NOT CHANGE CORI! CORI FINE BEING CORI! CORI STAY CORI!" defended Hulk in a roar. His concerns were largely Banner's. Technology was seldom perfect. It could malfunction. It could ruin. He didn't want Cori ruined._

_Didn't want her being anything less than what she was. Didn't want her changing. If she did, well…it would hurt. She'd met Banner in a very specific way. Banner took a mental picture of her and catalogued her, as he did everything._

_He didn't want that picture disturbed. She was perfectly twisted and unnatural, just like him. He'd _finally_ found someone as ruined, self-conscious, and adorably nervous as him. Offering an upgrade…offering a change…suggesting that she absorb more software to be a better soldier was something he wanted to neither comprehend nor consider. It would make her more machine than woman._

_He hadn't fallen in love with a machine. He'd fallen in love with _her_, green lines and all. Even if he hadn't told her. The stigma attached to the idea of a love life with her was enough to keep him quiet._

_"It could keep them safe." Fury pointed out, tone flat but seductive all the same. He knew how to read people. He knew she was afraid of letting down this team she'd stumbled onto._

_"Are you sure?" it was the weakness Fury needed to see. The weakness that would convince her. He nodded._

_Another loud groan disturbed the room's silence. Bruce's pain stemmed from his hurried attempt to form words and describe the intense emotions he conjured; emotions that Hulk could only feel and not address. Ignoring the tattered puddle of fabric at his feet, Bruce stood tall. She needed to understand him. To see him standing up for her. To see why this was _wrong.

_"Don't do it, Cori." Bruce instructed more than pleaded. He pinned her with molten brown eyes blazing with concern and rage. "Come into your power on your own. Don't experiment with yourself. Please. Trust me…I know what I'm talking about."_

_"I want the upgrade."_

_"Follow me." Fury gave a slight beckon with two fingers._

_How can she do this to herself? Bruce wondered. His jaw firmed, teeth grinding together. "Don't do it, Cori." repeated Bruce, catching her by the elbow. She spun around, surprising him._

_"I'm a freak and a liability, Bruce. I won't be both."_

_"You're not both." Bruce whispered softly, ducking his head to meet her hurt green eyes. "You're not a freak." his fingers brushed down her elbow until they folded around her hand. He squeezed her hand, hoping the brief, strong motion would convey all the words he couldn't say. That he was too scared to say._

_For a second Bruce thought her rationale had been revived. He saw her eyes glimmer with relief and thankfulness, but the spark quickly expired. Something else was driving her choice. Something else that was bigger than him. The world-wise man in him respected her choice and admired her maturity as she considered the big picture instead of the moment._

_The part that was _Bruce_ objected ferociously._

_Coriander squeezed back. She understood Bruce's worry, but, really, what was there to lose? She was the newest Avenger and clearly the weakest. She'd be nothing but a liability in battle. People looked at her like she was no better than the alien that attacked her. Cori wanted to give them a reason to look at her like a person again._

_If she couldn't do that, well…she'd give people a reason to call her a _cool _freak. It was twisted logic, but made sense to her. It was her body, anyways. Few people had shown interest in seducing her new body on account of her eye, so why look to anyone else for this decision?_

_She wasn't. She was going to take the upgrade. Cori knew that beyond a shadow of a doubt. But, if she knew that, why was she hoping Bruce would say something powerful enough to convince her otherwise?_

Because I love him_, she thought glumly. It was a love she didn't think he wanted. Bruce clearly cared, clearly empathized, but had been keeping her at arms' length. It was a distance she didn't want. A feeling she didn't want to live with and didn't want to have._

_Being more of a machine could make it all go away, she reasoned. Being more of a machine would make it all better. She wouldn't have to worry about being weak, and she wouldn't have to worry about getting her heart broken. Or so she hoped._

_Cori cracked Bruce's iron grip with some effort. "Then I'm a liability, and I won't have that." said Cori, giving Bruce a semi-apologetic look before following Fury. Bruce stalked after her, making no move to disguise the enraged stomping of his feet. Fury would know he was pissed. Tony followed after Bruce, neck hairs still on end from The Other Guy's sudden appearance._

_"Bruce, _Bruce!_" Tony put the man in a headlock as best he could. "Interrupt now and she could be hurt way worse. Whatever Fury does, we can fix it." swore the billionaire, feet rising off the ground as Bruce struggled not to pitch him forward and make a better decision for Cori. Numerous assistants were busy attaching wires and nodes to his housemate. Bruce vaguely realized the danger of his emotions._

_Snorting, he pulled back. Tony relaxed slightly, arms still wrapped thickly around Bruce's throat. Fury inserted a disk in the console, nodding to the person at the keys. The large screen lit up like Cori's eye as the program started. In the middle of downloading the computer shrieked; boxes of text popped up as Cori howled._

_Whatever pain she incurred, it was enough to bring her to her knees._

_"Terminate the download! I said TERMINATE the damn download!" Fury tamed the panic with a mere point of his finger. The people he pointed to shed their shivers and set to shutting down the transfer. Tony and Bruce disconnected Cori's body from the nodes and wires._

_"I want a copy of that disk." demanded Tony as Bruce cradled her limp body and rushed towards the elevator. He was her doctor. He'd take care of her._

Bruce took care of her as best he could. He assumed he'd done his job and that all was well when she opened her eyes. When she took a soft gulp of air and looked at him with those tired, gorgeous eyes. Tony adopted the task of investigating Fury's disk. It was merely to save his nerves; he and The Other Guy were less than friendly to the Director at the moment.

The man had shot him, for one. It didn't matter that a gamma-created creature would save him. He'd been _shot at_ by the person who'd bothered to recruit him! That, he could handle. Bruce felt that half his life had been spent dodging bullets, and it was probably a good estimation.

He couldn't comprehend nor forgive Fury doing such a thing to coax a response from Cori. A response that brought her to tears, no less. A response that caused her to search for him and hold him as if he were disappearing. The genius had never been so moved.

The genius had never been so moved or heartbroken. He made her do that. They were like oxygen and fire. She was his oxygen, and without her he became a raging fire. Even his monster had come to crave her.

It was all sick, Bruce decided. Nothing but a sick fantasy of his. He was dangerous before they met, but she made him a true force to be reckoned with. Bruce knew it was a cliché, but, like the face that launched a thousand ships and drove men to tireless war, he knew she could make or break him. She could send him into a rage or save him.

Bruce wasn't sure when she'd bypassed his defenses and seized such control, but knew she couldn't keep it. It simply wasn't safe. For her or for Manhattan. She often kept him company in the lab and fell asleep on the cool tables to stave off her headaches. Today, week three of her headaches, was no exception.

Instead of draping an extra lab coat over her like he usually did, Bruce stood before the lab table. "This has to stop." he whispered, vocal chords seeming to tighten in protest. This was the beginning of the end. He didn't want it to end.

She was the oxygen that roused and kindled the scattered embers of Bruce Banner. She was the catalyst that turned the embers into flames. Fires were deadly, but fires were also beautiful and captivating. They unknowingly – or did she do all the things he perceived as flirting deliberately, just like him? Bruce knew they were playing cat and mouse, but not if she wanted him to make the first move – protected a fire that could easily consume more than two people. It was time the fire be extinguished.

"The headaches have to at some point, right?" Cori misinterpreted his comment, reaching for the lab coat folded over his arm.

"No, _us_." Bruce didn't care that his voice cracked. Didn't care that he couldn't see past the shitty loaner glasses he'd been given.

"_What_?" the incredulity to her voice was bittersweet. Logically, he realized, she could only sound that hurt if she cared. If she thought they had something.

"I'm dangerous." was all he murmured.

"That's your only excuse?" Cori's voice was raspy with tears and rage. "You think I'm not?"

"I'm a _different_ kind of dangerous, Cori." reminded Bruce.

"Who cares, Bruce?"

"I care!" Bruce hissed, louder than he meant to. She recoiled slightly, but he refused to bite his lip and feel remorse. If this was how he could reach her, so be it. If it made her run away from him, even better. 'And I love you…' Bruce wanted to say, 'And I'm saying this _because _I love you.'

"Is this really what you want?" Cori squinted at him through teary eyes.

"Yes." Bruce lied. "I want to be alone."

"You goddamn _liar_!" she sobbed, smacking him with all her might. "You love me! I know you do!"

"How could you know?" Bruce breathed, ignoring his stinging cheek. He righted the askew glasses. "You're a child compared to me! You're at that age where you don't _know _what or who you want!"

"I know because I wake up every day and laugh at my own stupid face!" she told him, face turning pink with blood and hatred and mortification. "I thought those clichés about being in love were jokes. Something the movies relied on, but they're not…they're real symptoms, Bruce. I know because I only feel them around _you_."

_God, thank you! I love you too!_

But he could never be so selfish.

"I know because I see them in myself." she continued weakly. "My…my eyes light up when I see you because _I _light up when I see you. You make my cheeks hurt every day be-because I smile so much. Because you make me smile…"

Bruce said and did nothing. It was the hardest time he'd ever had staying still and staying quiet. The idea was as stupid as his inaction. A good part of his life relied on staying still, staying low, and not uttering a word until the danger passed. But now, suddenly, it was very hard. Painfully hard.

"You really want to be alone?" his silence stung. He wouldn't even give her the courtesy of a pity glance or a better reason. "Fine." Cori jumped down from the lab table and physically _shoved_ him aside in the process. "Fuck you, Bruce!" she picked up the lab coat that was usually her blanket and threw it in his face. "Be alone!"

Minutes, hours, days, years…he wasn't sure how much time had passed. The ticking clock was sobering. Each quiet _tick_ punctuated an otherwise quiet silence. A miserable eternity. He stayed hunched over the lab table, catatonic, until Tony burst into the lab.

"Bruce, you're not going to _believe _this!"

He didn't move.

"The disk is from the future, Bruce!"

"What?" despite the fact that his head felt thirty pounds heavier, he dragged it up to meet Stark's gaze.

"There's a folder about Malware in there. Nothing weird, right? Wrong. Malware is actually a program-gone-product made by Stark Solutions…_twenty years_ from now." Tony attacked the folder labeled "Malware" maliciously. He didn't stop until the basic coding for the saved file was revealed. At the end of multiple lines of technical coding sat: Stark Solutions © 2032.

Bruce was honestly speechless. Speechless and amazed. "How did—"

"I don't _know_, Bruce!" Tony was both thrilled and terrified. "And look, something gets added to the disk every time I close it out and access it!" he shut down the disk, ejected it, and reinserted it. Fury's upgrades and the folder labeled MALWARE was joined by another: Logs. After opening the 'Logs' folder, Tony stopped to gawk. "There were four logs when I last checked, and now there's _five_, Bruce! Five!"

"What's on them?"

"Me." answered Tony giddily. Bruce rolled his eyes. Unhappy with the lack of interest, Tony clicked on the first log. It was Tony dead on, Bruce was reluctant to admit. The Tony in the video didn't seem too different, but Bruce, who spent long hours with Tony, could detect the beginning of crow's feet and a few stray grays in his goatee.

He stopped the video, went back to the log list, and clicked on the latest one. "It's…" Tony felt his eyebrows rise in surprise.

"Me." Bruce finished, just as flabbergasted.

_"We've officially lost MALWARE." _the man with curly hair sporting a few more grays than Bruce preferred to admit he had said, frowning into the camera. _"But, the important stuff is safe…"_ an older version of his lips lifted into a shy, goofy smile as the camera followed the turn of his head and landed on a dark-haired woman trying to separate a yelling, squirming ball of limbs.

_"YOU COULD DO MORE THAN STARE, HONEY! EMERY'S REALLY TRYING TO KILL HIM!"_

_"AM NOT!" a head of black curls raised in indignation. "I'M TRYING TO STOP HIM FROM UNWINDING THE FABRIC OF YOUR PASTS! HE'S JUST BEING STUPID AND NOT LISTENING!"_

_"I HEAR YOU, EMERY." insisted the boy. "Think about it, though, if we rewind to the day MALWARE was made, she couldn't attack your mom! And she couldn't escape into the past to get her again!"_

_"How are you a Stark? God, you're so stupid! We've been OVER this. Rewinding to that day can't happen because MALWARE's already hopped dimensions and planted herself in the past. We can't undo that, so undoing her creation will leave the past team at a disadvantage! She's beyond the realm of our influence!"_

_"Did you just call me, a Stark, stupid? I know you didn't. The idea is inconceivable because you're allegedly high IQ would make you aware of the preposterousness of that statement. Unless, of course, you're more Hulk than Banner?"_

_A blonde girl charged into the fray, slamming her open palms out between the two. The force was enough to dislodge the boys completely. "Everyone CALM DOWN!" she demanded in a stern tone._

_"Stuff it, Sarah!" snapped the black-haired boy._

_"Don't YOU tell ME to stuff it, Green Bean!"_

_"DON'T CALL ME GREEN BEAN!"_

_"We're in chaos." the camera focused on Bruce once again. "But it can be fixed. Look, I know me. I know my doubts, and I know what I was struggling with in the past. Find Cori, or it will get worse for you. For your dimension…"_

"Do we need to find her, Tony?" Bruce whipped to Tony, drowning out his own voice. A sense of dread swept through him. What was MALWARE? Why was it targeting Cori? Was that why she had headaches?

"No, she's here in the tower!" Tony assured.

"Actually, sir…" JARVIS' voice echoed in the lab, "She's not."

"Where is she?" they asked simultaneously.

_"…MALWARE affects her mind just like any other technology. She's acting like another conscience. She's a voice in Cori's head. Cori's her biggest threat. MALWARE tried to make _my _Cori commit suicide, so she might do that to yours…to her."_

"End program!" shouted Bruce. Cori…commit suicide? When? Why? How much time did they have? He had a million questions to ask and couldn't stomach the answers.

"JARVIS, run a scan for Cori. Tap into the chip."

"I'll try my best, sir. Her signal's weak. I do believe I've uncovered where your scotch went."

"My scotch?"

"There's a bottle missing, sir."

"And you didn't check her before she left? Didn't ask her any questions or check her state of mind before leaving?" Bruce inquired through gritted teeth.

"I'm not required to, Dr. Banner. Mr. Stark and Ms. Potts gave Ms. Henson full clearance. And the option to mute me."

Fuck he wanted to smash things. Smash things and scream. The Other Guy ripped through him like a flash flood breaking through twigs. _FIND CORI. HULK FIND CORI. LET HULK OUT._

"I…h-have to go." Banner doubled over. Hulk would surely cripple him before he made it out of the building. His human legs and frame weren't meant to hold a towering, powerful figure. "Call me if you find her first." Fury demanded they all have phones. It solidified the "team" mentality. And the belief that there was anything good or smart in the director, Bruce thought.

* * *

_One more step…_the voice whispered enticingly. _Just fall_…

The voice didn't sound like hers, Cori thought. It was much more malicious and too understanding of her pity. She considered that she was being melodramatic and exaggerating her depression, but the logic didn't erase her discomfort. Something was wrong, she realized fuzzily. Cori took one last swig of the scotch before setting it down.

_It's the scotch_, she told herself, _it has to be._ Alcohol was a depressant, right? That obviously compounded and amplified her problem. Bruce's rejection hurt, but she'd been rejected before. She'd manage.

Or…would she? Somehow, strangely…it hurt a lot more coming from Bruce than it did the other men.

_I don't…want to…fall_. Cori stepped back from the ledge. She was on the hospital roof. Why, she didn't know. The girl assumed she felt compelled to come here; Bruce was a healer. He was her doctor.

Or had been. Aside from that, the hospital was important to her. Tony had patched her up at the hospital. Had implanted a second chance at life. Pepper had picked her up from the hospital to take her to Stark Tower, and the Tower was where Bruce was.

Where she'd met him.

Coriander vaguely remembered walking out of the tower. She hadn't wanted to, but the lingering depression demanded she go for a walk. Or was that the voice? Initially she'd just wanted to drink and lay back on the roof of Stark Tower, but, she barely recalled, something told her otherwise. Something told her it would be too easy and she couldn't really _hide _under their nose.

It was an odd thought to have, but not unusual. She'd been self-demeaning as of late. Sitting in a tower full of heroic figures had a way of dampening her mood. Had a way of making her realize her weakness. The tower seemed to mock her.

Everyone in it – save for her – was powerful. Was strong and sure of themselves. They had no problems, unlike her. She had a stupid power, and her one attempt at bettering herself left her with nothing but headaches. _Headaches and heartbreak_, Coriander corrected herself, trying to step back again.

She swayed. Her brow furrowed as her foot walk forward instead of back.

_I said BACK_, she thought, trying to put her foot behind her again.

_Forward is better. You know it. Step off the edge and you'll step away from _all _your problems._

_I'm heartbroken, not suicidal._ Cori found herself thinking. It was true. The sudden wedge between her and Bruce hurt, but not enough to end her life. She couldn't bring herself to do it. Not after Tony fought so hard to bring her back. Not after Bruce cried in her arms when he admitted his own weak moment and how The Other Guy saved his life.

_"I'm glad he spit the bullet out_._" Bruce murmured, comfortably empty and strangely energetic after his quiet breakdown, "If he hadn't…this moment wouldn't have happened. I wouldn't have met you."_

_He can't break your heart anymore if it's not beating_, the voice snapped her from the warming memory.

"And he can't make me smile if I'm not alive." she slurred to no one. Cori was relieved to feel herself step back. Maybe that voice really was just in her head. Coriander thought something more than headaches had been plaguing her, but hearing more than one voice wasn't natural. So, like any sane person, she pretended it didn't exist.

Her creeping and mounting depression was justified by her current situation, she thought. Being suddenly thrust onto a team of superheroes after an alien attack could be emotional hell. She assumed it was part of the process. The life she'd come to know, the comfort, had been shattered overnight. Depression was natural until she came back to herself.

She couldn't come back to herself if she was splattered on the Manhattan pavement. Cori was glad she turned around.

_That's it. Turn around. Fall back on that stupid head of yours. F—!_

"CORI!" Cori turned around at the sound of Bruce's voice. Her bleary eyes couldn't pick him out from the people gathering before the hospital. His voice, alone, was a comfort. "Don't jump, please! Stay there! I'll walk up to get you! We can walk down together…"

"I'd like that." Cori whispered, relieved. She felt more like a lost and frightened child than a woman poised on the edge of a building roof.

_No, you stupid bitch! Turn around!_

"Please don't punish yourself for my stupidity. For my cowardice. If anyone should be on that roof…it should be me. I'd rather it be me." admitted Bruce. "Life without the person who makes it matter is pretty much death, anyways."

_**Come up to meet you, tell you I'm sorry. You don't know how lovely you are. I had to find you, tell you I need you. Tell you I set you apart.**_

"Oh, Bruce…" as weak as it was, as much as Cori hated herself, she cried into her hands. There were no words to describe how _nice _and _comforting _it was to hear him say that. She felt so loved. She felt a hint of normalcy in the strangeness that had become her life.

She felt herself fall.

* * *

Bruce didn't have a breath to hitch, but found his chest tighten harder as she fell. Hulk was good for power, but not logic. Not in a delicate case like this. He'd guided Bruce to Cori's scent and quickly stepped back, thrusting the reigns at the eloquent man. That willing surrender of power was dizzying, but nothing like the sight of her on the ledge.

He was spellbound by horror. Bruce wanted to rush up the stairs and pull her away himself, but couldn't move his feet. The genius was sure that she'd plummet the minute he looked away. The minute he decided to move. His genius mind could handle the toughest algorithms, but not the idea of facing life without her.

It was a cliché, but it was true. Much like how Cori thought the stereotyped ideas of love were cliché but accurate. Cliché or not, it didn't change their realness. Deriding her feelings as "jokes" and "clichés" didn't change the fact that he understood and reciprocated them.

Those clichés only scratched the surface of why he felt like his world was crashing down alongside her. As his feet pounded along the concrete and sidewalk, charging desperately to meet the building before she hit the ground, Bruce saw his life flash before his eyes. A life without her. It was a miserable and bitter existence. There was no one in the world quite like her.

He knew. Fury asked him to man the scanners and check others who may have been hurt by the aliens. Her magnificent and serendipitous mutation made her one of a kind. The only one. She was rare, like himself.

Hulk wouldn't allow him to die, and he couldn't allow her to die. Not when he'd seen that weird video log. They were _supposed _to be together, damnit! Bruce felt relief wash over him as she hurtled towards the expectant cradle of his arms. Physics and mathematics dictated that they would both hit the ground hard – hard enough to break bones or cause unconsciousness, he expected – but Bruce would suffer through it.

None of the pain would matter if he could wake up next to her.

_Wouldn't it be great if we both got concussions, forgot each other, and fell in love anyways?_ Bruce found himself thinking. _Wait…no. No it wouldn't. Then I wouldn't remember who I am or what I've been through. I'd have no stories to tell her. Cori loves my stories._

He grinned up at the sky. Because of Cori. Because he remembered subtle flirting and how she hung on to his every word. Some of those "long hours" weren't on Stark projects like he'd said. No, many nights he'd snuck out to the kitchen with Cori where they made drinks with the caution of burglars before stealing back to talk some more.

Her questions were refreshing. At the first indication of discomfort she'd flip a general inquiry about The Other Guy into one of his survival. It was always about _him_ with her, not The Other Guy. He appreciated that. He loved it.

Needed it, even. Bruce would surely require counseling if he lost the only person who'd genuinely asked about him. He didn't and couldn't go back to being tight-lipped and isolated after she'd reawakened the talker and teacher in him. Her questions and curiosities were as important as air; those questions and curiosities let him have her attention and time.

___**Tell me your secrets and ask me your questions. Oh, let's go back to the start. Running in circles, coming up tails. Heads on a science apart**_

She hit his arms with the force of a semi. Bruce felt like a bundle of concrete blocks had been dropped from the building instead of a person. He wasn't sure what part of him hit the ground first; it all connected, rattled, and bounced in protest. Banner lost consciousness, of that he was sure. When he'd run to catch her there had been no ambulances at the scene, but when he opened his eyes there were two with flashing lights and several sets of professionals trying to untangle them.

"No!" groaned out Bruce, feeling some sort of pain. Emotional? Physical? The Other Guy would handle the bodily pain. His pain was probably just the soreness of rapid healing. "Not…taking. Mine." he'd almost lost her.

He wouldn't lose her now. Separating didn't compute in his brilliant mind. The idea was as abhorrent as basing scientific work off of half the periodic table. It simply wouldn't and shouldn't be done. It was illogical.

"Sir, please! She needs medical attention. _You _need medical attention."

Bruce could feel Hulk stop the mending process. He'd raised his green head with the intent to ensure safety at any bloody, damaging, horrific cost. What was precious to Banner was being threatened. Someone was bullying Banner, like those kids in school. Like in so many of those abandoned, dusty memories that made him mad.

His aching – possibly broken or fractured – back arched up in warning. His muscles quivered. The roar that pried open his clenched jaws was in a much deeper and angrier voice.

___**Nobody said it was easy. It's such a shame for us to part. Nobody said it was easy. No one ever said it would be this hard.**_**Oh, take me back to the start****  
**

"Thanks for the quick response boys, but I got this. You can put him on a spine board, though. You'll let them do it, right, Bruce?" Bruce's gamma-charged eyes looked at Tony with relief. The Other Guy relaxed. Tony was a good man. He'd tell them. He'd chase them away like he threatened to do Fury or any other agency that came after them. Hulk eased Bruce's taut frame down and quieted, resuming the physical healing.

Bruce didn't want to take his hands off of her, but Tony's light question wasn't really a question. It was more of a gentle persuasion. He had little to fear, though. His friend would keep them together. Coriander's unconscious body was strapped to his chest, her head resting against his shoulder.

Even though she was drunk and unconscious, she was a comfort. Bruce tuned into his body's pleas for rest. For a break from the pain. He let his heavy eyelids fall as Tony carefully balanced and carried them away.

* * *

His blurry surroundings came into focus. The sight of the lab table brought a sour taste to his mouth. That was where he'd yelled at Cori. Where he'd sobbed while pushing her away by any means possible. Where they'd cried together and separated in a quick moment that proved to be the longest and most painful part of his life to date.

The familiar, comforting sounds of the lab reached his ears. Machines beeped. Lights hummed, casting metallic colors and white walls with glossy warmth. Cori was on the lab table, pale and ethereal with the aid of the lights. She was still, her eyes closed like she was sleeping.

For a moment Bruce could pretend that nothing had happened. He could lie to himself and say he never yelled at her…that she never stormed off to drink herself to the top of a building. She was here and things were like they were before he'd opened his idiotic mouth.

___**I was just guessing at numbers and figures. Pulling the puzzles apart. Questions of science, science and progress do not speak as loud as my heart.**_

…until the pain surged through his body, tearing every cell he possessed in half. He'd lifted his head to better see Cori's stillness. Something about it was unnatural. And something about beeping in the lab wasn't totally correct. Usually the beeping was in the background, not up close.

"Cori?"

No response.

"She's unconscious, Bruce. We're rehydrating her with an IV." explained Tony. "If the fall didn't kill her, the alcohol probably would've."

"But she'll be alright?"

"Yep."

_Good_, he thought, ignoring the ping pong ball bouncing off the two drums in his head. He couldn't stomach the thought of Cori dying where they'd _almost_ ended. It would be a grim and torturous fit. One that would mock him until the end of his days.

Mistakes of a scientific and emotional nature had been made in this lab. He and Tony were quick to correct the scientific ones. The emotional mistake was one only he could repair, and he would. It took Cori nearly splattering outside of a Manhattan hospital for him to realize that he'd rather have her alive and 'maybe this, probably not, just cuddly and close and happy!' than not at all. In truth, Banner would rather have her as 'Bruce's girlfriend. Yes, this. Absolutely. No doubt. Who the hell asked you? Who cares?' if he could have her at all.

And he would. He was on his way to fifty. It was about time he had something nice! If ever he could have one nice thing, it would be her. Without her the scientific work he adored would be a punishment. His days would be maddeningly silent without her conversations.

It was not an existence he wanted. If ever his existence were to be salvaged, though, it would be at the place where it was threatened. Where he'd almost made it meaningless.

_**But tell me you love me, come back and haunt me. Oh and I rush to the start. Running in circles, chasing our tails. Coming back as we are****.**_

"You feel okay?" Tony turned away from Coriander long enough to assess his friend.

"I'll live." grunted out Bruce as he forced his aching body to be mobile. He'd live so long as he had his oxygen. If she breathed, he breathed. Tony's eyes stayed for a bit longer than they should've and that made Bruce worry. Something was going unsaid.

His eyes drank in the various machines attached to Cori. Wires and clamps were not part of standard medical equipment. Neither was a voltage box. Bruce's body had gone through hell, but he still had enough energy to rush Tony into the nearest wall if he needed. Aware of the murderous look in Bruce's eyes, Tony was quick to explain.

"The others…the older us…they had to kill Malware. She's as susceptible to electricity and frying as any technology, Bruce."

"But she's inside of Cori. You'll hurt her!"

"It won't kill Cori. The Chitauri blood will keep her safe. We've all taken hits for the better, Bruce." Tony pointed out. If the comment had come from anyone else, Bruce would've lost it. But, it didn't. It came from Tony, and Bruce could hear the reluctance in his voice. Tony was one of the few who could talk in such a way; he'd been ripped away from death's door by The Other Guy.

He knew what it meant to die for others.

"Is it something you _have_ to do?" Bruce asked, regardless.

"Yes. With our society being so dependent on technology, Malware would cripple it before anything big happens. Panic means no baby-making. Lack of technology means no advancing to a point where we can be sent a floppy disk from the future. No baby-making and no advancing means no future, Bruce. Not the ones that we're supposed to have."

He'd unknowingly jeopardized his future once. Bruce wouldn't willingly do it again. This would hurt to watch – let alone hear, smell, and treat – but having no future with her at all hurt more. This was one of those 'hits for the better' Tony mentioned seconds ago. "Now she just needs to wake up…" mumbled Tony.

As if she'd heard him, Cori opened her eyes.

"Hey, Squirt. How—"

"I'm sorry! I didn't want to! I didn't mean to! I was going to step _back_!"

Bruce smoothed back her windblown hair. "We know. That voice isn't yours." he kissed her forehead. Her body relaxed under his lips as she struggled to raise her arms and wrap them around his neck. He let her cry into his neck, nose nearly smashed against her forehead because she didn't want to let him go and he couldn't get close enough. Cori's hiccups subsided and he wiped her eyes.

She wasn't happy about releasing his neck, but Bruce held her hand. He kissed her knuckles and warned her gently that Tony had something bizarre to say, but repeatedly reminded and promised that she would not be alone. That he would not leave her, and that he would not let go of her hand. Like he expected, Cori bucked, screamed, and writhed in attempt to get away.

Bruce held her down, though. Tony did, too. Stark played the last of the video log, shocking and stilling Cori. Older Bruce's instructions – which he barely gave; they could see something haunting and unsettling consume his eyes – were to melt any non-human item that Malware had touched and shock her out of Cori before she completely overrode and remodeled the part of her mind that could handle technology. "Shock until you hear the inhumane noise. It sounds barbaric, but that means she's out." Older Bruce had said.

"_I'd _rather hurt you than let _her _do it. Understand, Squirt?" Tony asked, wanting to make sure she fully understood the situation before attaching the wires and turning on the voltage. Cori nodded, fingernails leaving crescent impressions in the back of Bruce's hands. Their fingers were laced together; the weight of his large, warm, calloused hands was comforting. "I love you, Squirt." he kissed her forehead.

"I love you too, Tony." Cori managed, swallowing as she looked to Bruce and readjusted her fingers. This would hurt. She was terrified. _Beyond _terrified.

_**Nobody said it was easy. Oh, it's such a shame for us to part. Nobody said it was easy. No one ever said it would be so hard. I'm going back to the start.**_

Typically never one to be squeamish, Tony shut his eyes against the bright flicker of light. The raw current of crackling electricity could hardly be heard under Cori's and Bruce's anguished cry. Seconds crawled by like hours. Then, a sound. It was high-pitched and induced cringing like nails on a chalkboard. The screech wasn't made for a human's throat.

Nails on glass would've done the grating whine justice.

It reminded Tony of the annoying dial-up internet noises high-speed advertisements used. He quickly detached the wires. Bruce collapsed into Cori as the scent of smoked flesh filled the room. Coriander knew she should be in pain, but imagined that she was in so much pain that she was numb. Such a thing was possible.

She knew her skin pulling back together, even if she couldn't feel it. The Chitauri blood was the needle sewing her back together. Bruce's brown-green eyes glowed as his burnt flesh regenerated into the smooth skin she remembered. The cute little curls of arm hair she'd basically memorized sprung back up like daisies. His jaw felt like rubber, and Bruce noticed with mild embarrassment that he was having some sort of spasm that caused slight drooling, but he asked, "Can we start over?"

Coriander nodded as vigorously as her body would allow.

"Hi. I'm Bruce. I'm a doctor, and I'm going to make you better."

Cori yanked him down by the collar of his shirt and smashed her clumsy lips to his. Her brows quickly sloped into something angry. She couldn't feel his mouth. Hell, she couldn't even feel _her_ mouth! It was like being on novocaine!

But she wouldn't tell _him _that.

All the bad wiring in her mind had finally been undone. She was herself again. And, she was kissing Bruce Banner like she said she would.

And she'd keep kissing him until she could feel it. _**  
**_


	27. Love Fur Real

We Need to Quit Meeting like This

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**AN: **I was going to do the wedding prompt, but thought of this instead. I'll get to the wedding prompt, I swear! But, for some reason, the idea of Kitty!Cori was very amusing and I just _had _to try it. It may not be my favorite, but I still wanted to try it :D.

Thanks to Miko Hayashi and Of-Thieves-and-Liars for reviewing the last chapter!

The next Captain America chapter coming out depends on when I can get my essay done for school :/.

The idea of Cori appearing as a technology-manipulating alien from another planet will be further explained in the next _We Need to Quit Meeting like This _oneshot (or the one after the next).

* * *

Love Fur Real

_"You think your love life's bad, hm? Well I'm about to show you that things can be worse!" Fera growled, pouted, and wiggled her fingertips as they began to glow a bright and beautiful honey color. Coriander had no time to protect herself, as she wasn't expecting her friend to use the power she'd been blessed with. The shimmering arcs slammed into her unmercifully. Though dazed, she felt Fera pick her up, hug her, and drop her gently into the terrain transistor meant for Earth._

_Fera pulled up the holographic log for Coriander's previous viewings with a mere swipe of her finger. Something in Manhattan, New York had caught her eye more than once. "That's where I'll send you, then." she decided._

_Coriander mewled in protest, head aching as she tried futilely to escape the sloshing waters representing about seventy percent of the foreign planet. She yelped and held her breath as the water drained, swiftly sucked out by a hungry and roaring vacuum of air._

_"Good luck, Cori!" Fera watched her friend emerge in a large puddle at the mouth of a dark alley on Earth. "It won't be so bad…you'll see. Love's a powerful thing you shouldn't mock or bemoan, Cori." _

_I'll kill Fera!_ thought Cori angrily as she stumbled along the strange, hard walkway in her new – soaked – furry body. She was too distraught to appreciate that she was an Earth cat, and not an Ortus cat. Her moping and dramatic antics had gone far, Cori would admit, but Fera had gone farther. Coriander was utterly confused; the multitude of colors from signs hanging overhead, their words, and the cars whizzing by could be seen in all of their glory, but not understood.

She'd seen them before, from the Observatory, but had no word for them like the planet occupants did. The strange world was glaringly bright and almost burned her eyes with its vastness. Coriander felt distraught. She _knew_ this place – she'd seen it before! – but her mind was as blank as a child's. It would be until she found someone's mind to connect to.

Frowning at the sour smell left behind by the puddle she'd emerged from, Cori continued walking in her new body. The girl stopped before a long, glossy window showcasing trendy clothes and wide hats. FERA MADE HER A CAT! _Now I really _will _kill her_, Cori watched her feline back arch as she hissed in displeasure. A little girl caught the noise and cooed at her; her mother promptly pulled her away muttering about the 'cleanliness' and 'sanity' of the creature.

Cori hissed again, her black ears flattening against her head. She continued on, weaving through grumbling and somewhat heartless people, hoping to find something to eat. Fera had sent her to Earth without a warning. If Cori had known, well, she would've eaten something!

The human-turned-cat walked for what felt like hours, finally figuring out how to correctly maneuver four paws about the time they went numb. Something warm and heady caused her little black nose to twitch. It was earthy and somewhat sweet. A door trimmed in black with a silver handle swung to and fro as people entered; the scent of baked goods slipped out into the air. Her mouth watered.

"Please Tony? _Please_?" Coriander raised her tiny head as best she could, watching a freckle-faced woman cozy up to a male. Her nose wrinkled as she snorted. Even _here_ people were in love and having love! It was disappointing and sickening.

"Why do you want coffee here, Pep? It's so…_boring_!" the man whined almost childishly. "I could fly you to a _much _more interesting place than this!"

"That's not the point, Tony," the woman admonished, "I want to spend _time_ with you. You know, outside the lab. Outside of work. You _owe_ me, mister!"

"For the drunk dials, I know, I know." sighed.

"No, actually," she grinned, "for wanting to come here with _Bruce_ first. I mean, what, does _he _schedule your day now?"

"Tea is important to Bruce!" defended the dark-haired male, "And he doesn't like going into these kinds of places alone. Annoying people are everywhere, Pepper."

"I'm not saying it's not." Pepper replied soothingly.

"You don't need to use that voice, Pepper." assured another male who looked as old, if not older, than the one intertwined with the redhead. "I'm not angry. Highly amused, actually."

"Is this because I kept peeling you out of the lab, Bruce? She made me, you know."

"It is." laughed the other male cheerily as he held the door open.

Cori saw her chance. She pressed her body low to the floor and slipped in discretely, or so she thought. The man's honey-brown eyes locked with hers. For a second or two she froze; would he make a fuss like the mother with her daughter? He appeared to pass no judgment; 'Bruce' looked away as to not draw attention to her.

His foot could only hold the door for a few more seconds. He hoped the little kitten would move before someone caught sight of it. Tony and Pepper had already paused at his lack of presence. Bruce made a slight _tsst_! noise and bumped the feline gently with his foot. Relieved, Cori scuttled off to hide under an unoccupied table.

From there she'd create a plan of attack. A plan of survival.

Bruce was allowed to pick a table, as he had the simplest order. A pair of large, emerald-green eyes peered owlishly at him from the bottom of a table. He grinned. The kitten was situated on the support keeping the table centered, and padded carefully around the legs as Bruce claimed a chair. Coriander laid gratefully on the man's foot, purring to show her appreciation.

Earth people like their native animals, she recalled. Cozying up to him wasn't wrong. He had opened the door for her, after all. If he just _happened _to give her food or something to drink that would just be a bonus. _I've always wanted a pet_, Bruce mused as the little ball of fur warmed his foot and snuggled against his ankle so the vibrations could carry up his leg.

Freaks like him weren't allowed to have pets, or so his father had said. Mindful of his shoes, Bruce delicately slid his feet together, hoping the cat would take it as some sign of approval instead of a death grip. He was giving the tiny thing a sense of safety. A calm space. His fingertips had just begun to close around the cup when a body rudely jostled the table; green tea fell in clear splatters across the tabletop.

A man clearly smelling of stale sweat and booze failed to murmur an apology as he stumbled towards the service counter. Bruce frowned, feeling a familiar dislike and tautness assault his body. Drunks were bad. Drunks were like his father. Said drunk went on to heckle the customers awaiting their drinks, complaining about the short-staffed speed as he did so.

Bruce found a small comfort in the looks of irritation on Tony's and Pepper's face. He should've gotten up, walked away, and went home after seeing Tony deflect a sloppy grab directed towards Pepper. The man caterwauled about his wife, who'd divorced him, and string of bad luck contaminating every other facet of his life since then. _What the hell is wrong with you?_ Coriander felt the nice man's leg tense as it began to shake.

A genuine worry about what could be bothering her meal-ticket surfaced, second to the fact that she may not get any food if he was unhappy. She ascended his leg and weaseled through the space between his kneecap and the table's underside to get a good look. That look was truncated by the gentle press of his hand on the path of fur between her feline shoulders. "Bad kitty," he reprimanded gently through lightly gritted teeth, "hide or they'll chase you out."

_Fat chance, pal. Something's bugging you and I'M gonna see what! _Cori purred for appearances and then turned around in mock settling. Bruce felt the cat turn and withdrew his hand from beneath the table. It would probably sleep there, he assumed. The kitten looked thin, like it had been on the run or homeless for a while. As Bruce pitied and admired the cat for lasting on its own for so long – and made the link between himself, the cat, and endless running – it clutched his clothes in tiny claws and climbed him like a mountain.

Bruce would've panicked or allowed Hulk to feed on the dull throb of anger from its tiny, pricking claws if the cat didn't purr during its entire ascent. Soft but sour-smelling fur brushed the side of his face as the kitten settled on his right shoulder before crossing to his left. _You're kind of cute for an Earth man, _Cori pawed at his distracting and bouncy curls curiously, mewling as her hand got caught. "I need a haircut, I know…" Bruce mumbled as he gently steadied the feline and extracted its paw from his mess of curls.

Cori didn't like that her feeling had been interrupted, but let it slide. He was a nice and helpful man, after all. _His glasses are so shiny! I want them!_ Cori's paw began to knead the arm of his spectacles with interest; she watched the curved end bounce in protest behind the bend of his ear. "I need—I need those…" Bruce groaned as his glasses tumbled into his lab.

The kitten purred, flexing her claws and burying them in the patch of hair beside his ear. Bruce shivered. "Don't do that!" he scolded quietly.

_What? I'm helping you relax!_ Cori continued her ministrations. She gave a pitiful whine when it didn't seem to work. Her human friend was tensing up again…worse than before.

"You look li' Suzan, you know?"

"For the last time," hissed Pepper with what politeness she could muster, "I'm _not _Suzan!"

"But you could be!" he slurred adamantly, "You could be m' new Suzan! M' better Suzan!"

Cori could hear Bruce's teeth gnash together.

"Do you _know_ who I am?" the dark-haired male with matching eyes glared at the offender. "Do you know who you're pissing off?"

"Someone who needs t' shut up." grumbled the man hanging on the redhead's chair. Cori could clearly see – despite being from another planet – that neither human wanted him here. She growled threateningly, raising her back and fur as she did so.

"Bruce, there's a—" Pepper began.

"I know."

"But where did you—"

"Don't ask."

"_REOW_‼" Cori jumped off of Bruce's shoulder and onto the table. She slid on her unsheathed claws, skidding to a stop between Pepper's yummy cinnamon-scented thing and a blueberry crumble square that would feel her mighty fury next. Thinking smartly like the advanced being she was, Cori knocked over Pepper's drink.

"Bad kitty! Cute kitty, but _bad_ kitty!" Pepper wagged her finger at the kitten.

"Smelly kitty." mumbled Tony with a wrinkle of his nose.

"That's what you call a bad pussy!" laughed the drunk, dropping his hand onto Pepper's shoulder. "Yours, however—" he was interrupted by ungodly hissing and spitting. Coriander launched herself from the table and buried her little claws into his face. This guy had totally ruined her chance for food! And she was on a planet with no way to communicate! And she was a _cat_!

The drunkard slipped in the spilt coffee. Coriander refused to let go, her body swaying with his flailing form as they crashed to the ground. A table and chair had been knocked over. Dazed and on the ground, the drunkard suffered Cori's feline paws of justice. She dodged his wildly waving hands and essentially walked on his face, her four paws carving his face into a state of bloody tenderness.

She'd half-hoped to suffocate him with her fur, but that didn't work. The man wrestled her off his face at last, throwing her away and to the side with vigor. His face burned like hell as it shined various shades of pink and red. He thought nothing of pinning the recovering cat with two thick fingers. It wouldn't need to be held down long; just long enough for him to raise his foot.

"Stomp kitty and Hulk stomp you." warned a massive creature that cast a shadow as long as it was tall. Cori didn't know what to think (besides: _PEOPLE CAN'T DO THAT! NORMAL EARTH MEN DON'T DO THAT!_). She slowly crawled away, more amazed than frightened, to take shelter with the redhead and brunette man behind their overturned table. "Man leave now!" the giant stomped his equally massive green foot, rattling tables, chairs, and people.

The drunkard didn't need to be told twice.

"Kitty?" Hulk began to look around, afraid to walk for fear of smashing the infuriatingly small tables. "Kitty?"

Cori clambered up the other man's side. It was easier than trying to grab onto the woman's skirt, she thought. Tony twitched and gave involuntary little _ah ha_'s as Cori clumsily came to rest on his shoulder. She braced herself against the back of his gelled hair, front paws playing on his skull. Hulk chuckled at how small, fluffy, and wide-eyed she looked atop Tony's hair.

Kittens didn't belong in hair! He watched for a moment, content. Animals were always curious to Bruce; he had a soft spot for them from a scientific and personal point of view. "Dessert!" Hulk pointed behind the table where crumbs and chunks of Pepper and Tony's food lay, abandoned.

"I don't think that's clea—" Pepper began, wiggling her heeled feet to avoid breaking a sizeable chunk of cinnamon streusel.

"Food for kitty!" demanded Hulk somewhat childishly.

"Oh no!" Tony abandoned the table, waving his hands crazily, "You are _not _taking care of the kitty!"

"Hulk know how take care!" insisted Hulk as Pepper begrudgingly dropped a streusel piece into his hand. He held it up to Tony's forehead, waiting for the kitten to come to him. Cori jumped off of Tony's head like it was a springboard. She purred, curling up in a pleasantly warm hand before burying her face in the coffee-soaked morsel.

"It doesn't matter!" Tony argued, "Once you take _care_ of it you'll want to _keep_ it. I won't have a kitten in the tower!"

"But she's my little kitty angel, Tony!" reminded Pepper.

"Hulk taking kitty." informed Hulk, smirking at Tony as if inviting the unarmored man to challenge him. Tony floundered. On the one hand, it was Bruce. Bruce should feel comfortable; Tony thought he'd more than earned that. But, on the other hand, it was a _cat_ and he owned the damn building!

"Hulk not—"

Hulk huffed – in his eyes – gently towards his friend. Tony was bowled over and rolled into the nearest table. He could tell his hair had been styled – free of charge – before his back even made contact with the table. "Tony woman make sure Tony pick up kitty things for kitty!"

"We'll get things for the kitty." promised Pepper, grinning at the sheer childish delight on his green face. Hulk outright _laughed_ as he exited with as little damage as possible and jogged towards the tower.

"Brothers in science _my ass_!" Tony exclaimed as he heaved himself up with the aid of a nearby table, looking in every way like he'd just escaped a hurricane. Pepper giggled.

* * *

_"It won't be so bad…you'll see. Love's a powerful thing you shouldn't mock or bemoan, Cori." _

She hadn't been fully released from the terrain transistor then; until the transfer was complete Cori would hear echoes of Ortus. Coriander was still pulling her feline body from the garbage-and-booze stained puddle as Fera spoke. Her words were gentle and honest. They were also trapped in Cori's feline skull; she was sure Fera had indirectly given her a hint to reclaim her old form. It was a hint she'd been thinking about for two months.

Coriander took Fera's words to mean she needed someone to say "I love you". She held onto that idea and tried multiple times to help someone catch on. There were multiple people in the house – Pepper, Tony, Thor, Steve, Natasha, Clint, Bruce – but _none _of them would say the three critical key words. It was infuriating! Pepper came the closest in her general cuddling and cooing, but her tone was so babyish that the words were distorted.

Since then Cori had been doing all things "cute" in effort to make one of her housemates say, "Aww! I love that cat because she's so cute!"

Hell…at this point she'd take, "I love that stupid cat!"

Sleeping in Steve's shoes, getting stuck in a pack of Tony's dried blueberries, and chasing one of Clint's feathered arrows had gotten her nothing. Nothing but, "Those are big, but that's not a bed.", "Hey, those are mine!" and "Too slow, cat! Hey! That's _not _for chewing! Don't chew on that! The next one could have sleeping gas!"

Bruce was her best bet, Cori thought. He was tranquil and quiet enough to observe what others didn't. And he'd been the one to spot her that day. That awareness told her he may be able to pick up on her cues. She'd spent many nights of her two-month adoption staying in his presence out of gratefulness and necessity.

Coriander kept an eye on him, just like he did her. More than once Bruce woke up to the fuzzy creature cuddling his face. She'd stir with a little _mrrp?_ of sleepy startle when he inhaled and peeled himself away. Today was no different; his exhale tickled her fur and he returned quietly to whatever project he'd been working on the night before. Tony came in shortly after with a plate of breakfast for him (extra bacon on the side just for Cori so she'd stop hurtling across the table to steal it off the other dishes).

His brother in science accepted it, grinning as Cori attacked, pawed, and nibbled on her bacon proudly. The familiar clack of Pepper's heels filled the lab. "Wanted to catch you before you guys get too far along." she said, patting Tony's arm and holding out a clipboard full of papers. Making a big show of nothing – as always – Tony scrawled something loopy and illegible but official. "Make yourself available at two. The attorney is coming over."

"Attorney?" Bruce bristled curiously. Attorneys, like certain army generals, had ways to make things disappear. They could also make small, simple things hard for a man like Bruce.

"Yep." Tony returned to an invention, "Attorney. I'm giving you Power of Attorney in the event The Other Guy can't wake me up after something like another invasion."

Bruce was touched. And disturbed. "But what about—"

"I took over a good chunk of the company, and his responsibilities, before he figured out how to remake the palladium in his chest." she explained.

"Oh." prone to nervous twitching and exuding awkwardness in comfortable, silent moments like this, Bruce buried his head in work to fight it all off.

"You're like twins, I swear!" scoffed Pepper affectionately before scratching Cori's head and walking out.

Stuffed with bacon, lulled by the usual sounds of Bruce and Tony working, of them talking, Coriander rested her eyes. _Maybe an idea will come to me while I nap_, she thought. A sharp, white-hot pain ripped her from sleep. "Oh! Oh! Come to Mama Pepper!" cooed and clucked Pepper, scooping her up, "Mean ol' Tony for leaving his tools where they can hurt the little kitty!"

"Sorry, Cori." apologized Tony.

"Cori?" a new voice inquired in mild amusement.

"When she first arrived she ate anything _but_ the cat food we bought her. Finally, we tricked her into it. After the first bite she leapt up into my homegrown spices and chewed them to pieces! The only thing I could grow at the time was Coriander, so we called her Coriander." revealed Pepper. She kissed Cori's tail, calming the burning sensation. Cori purred, curling into Pepper's collarbone.

"I see," the attorney gave a small chuckle. "Shall we move on?"

"Of course." Bruce rubbed his hands together nervously.

"Fine by me." Tony was nonchalant, but that was to be expected with the amount of paperwork and legal obligations he'd had to face over the years.

"Alright, well…" the attorney started a general spiel about the Power of Attorney. Bruce already knew about the position and duties from a textbook standpoint, but understood this was something he had to go through as a routine. Tony scrawled his consent, Bruce signed his agreement to overtake Tony's duties in a state of incapability, and Pepper offered herself as the notary. Cradling Cori in one hand, Pepper stamped with the other.

_Hey…that stuff makes messages!_ Cori had almost forgotten things like that existed. On Ortus they used retinal scans or offered their vita pars, which this society appeared to lack. She jumped down, sniffing the pungent, wet substance. Cori immediately regretted pawing the cold, squishy square. It was strong, on her paw, and wouldn't shake off.

"Aww! You want to make your mark, too?" teased Pepper, watching Cori try to bounce the feeling of ink away. Small, ruby-red paw prints littered the work area.

"Not on the legal document!" the attorney quickly snatched it away and tucked it in his briefcase.

"Here, Cori. You can play with this."

"She's a cat, Pep! Not a person! Don't let her use that! It has my notes on it!"

"You write notes on everything, Tony!" pointed out Bruce. "And Cori may be a cat, but she's a smart cat."

"And she's my little guardian kitty, aren't you Cori-kitty-kitty-kitty?" Pepper giggled as Cori reached her clean paw up to pat her nose. She was highly entertained with the residual image of her paws on the napkin.

_This could work_, she thought. Coriander quickly immersed her black paws in the dark ink. "Watch the lab, Bruce? I'll be escorting our guest our since Ms. Potts seems occupied." teased Tony, smirking at his girlfriend as he checked over his shoulder for Bruce's compliance.

"She really _is_ a smart kitty." Pepper mused softly, rubbing Cori's fuzzy head as she continued to pat away at the napkin. Finally – after peeling her paws away and jumping between the ink and the napkin numerous times – it was done. "Did you make your own message, Cori? What is that? It looks like-"

"I love you." Bruce had his head cocked similarly to Pepper's. Cori felt warmth bubble from her core and flow through her. The tell-tale honey glow of Fera's gift consumed her.

"Thank GOD!" Cori heard herself yell in relief. Her own voice was foreign and odd after spending two months communicating like a feline.

"You're naked!" cried Bruce, unsure if he should look away or stare because nothing like this had ever happened in his life. What the hell _had _happened? There were no laws of science to explain the sight before him.

"I'm cured!" corrected Cori, grinning brightly, "Fera's spell wore off!"

Bruce quickly threw a lab coat over her. Cori ran into the cloth on her way to the team doctor. "I love you, too!" she said in a voice tinged with something of a purr.


	28. I Do

We Need to Quit Meeting like This

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**AN:** This was the quickest and easiest thing for me to update, so here it is! Steve's story is getting updated next (though when that will be I can't say for sure).

HOLY CRAP! THIS BROKE 100 REVIEWS! THANKS EVERYONE!

And to think…we're only on chapter twenty-eight! What would the review number be if I made it to one hundred prompts, I wonder?

Sorry for any spelling errors. I had an attention-starved kitty laying on my left hand during the creation of this prompt :). She's quite comfortable and I don't have the heart to move her.

Thanks to Maymayliu, Of-Thieves-and-Liars, and Miko Hayashi for reviewing the last chapter! And I agree, May, we need to get more prompts with drunk Bruce xD,

At long last, it's here – the wedding prompt!

And oh my god, guys…the feels! It kind of makes me want to do a short story about Bruce and Cori falling in love in Hawaii xD (but I'm not going to because I'm lazy/stressed enough as it is xD).

* * *

I Do

Cori was surprised to hear _Tony_ call an Avengers' meeting in the tower, but she went. The young woman didn't consider herself "Avengers" material in the slightest, but Fury had made it clear that she would stick alongside the team until she came into her own. So, here she was, watching Tony sip coffee, set it down, and pace in a business-like manner. His hands were folded behind his back like a 'holier than thou' judge or stern general, a small push device clenched in one lax fist. Pepper wore an embarrassed, impish smirk, and with good reason.

Tony Stark never acted like a stern general. His mind was for science and only worked when distracted. Or spurred by lewd conversation. Steve was, by far, the one most expected to act as Tony did. Cori attempted to steal glances at the faces around her, still very surprised and humbled by the opportunity to be meeting and sitting with the Avengers.

Some were surprised, like her. Others were irritated with Tony's silence and wished he'd open his mouth and _speak_. Bruce, she noticed, seemed neutral. Actually…he looked to be analyzing his friend. Thor grinned as widely as his arms were muscled, obviously spotting something she didn't.

Then, she caught it. It was nearly impossible with Tony's pacing, but the overhead lights hit his face _just_ right. Tony Stark was _blushing_! Pepper's quiet beauty, Tony's nervousness, and the red dust on his cheek were signs of one _big_ matter, Cori realized quickly. Those elements blended beautifully into the undisclosed news and it became obvious to her like a routine – Tony was stuck and didn't know how to announce himself.

She was in her twenties, and still technically had time to be wild, reckless, and disrespectful of others in an area such as this. Cori fully intended to use those ageism beliefs to help Tony out. The young woman had become too excited to sit still after her discovery, anyways.

"Are you drunk?" Clint wondered lightly. Drunk people grew red-faced like Tony. And the man _did_ like a drink.

"It's a hot flash, right?" Steve queried. "You're getting up there, aren't you?"

"Watch it, Capsicle!" managed Tony with a disappointed – dare Cori say _indignant_? – expression.

"He's not having a hot flash!" Cori leapt off the fancy office chair and onto the table, "He's getting _hitched_! And I love you! You _finally_ did it!" she ran to Pepper. Hugging Tony crossed her mind, but he was giving her this look that clearly said, 'No, don't! You'll smother me in your excitement!'.

"Cori, no! I'm in a skirt!" Pepper pointed out, trying futilely to back her chair up before the dark-haired girl threw herself – full-force – at her. Her heeled feet skipped across the carpeted floor, unable to gain enough traction for a backwards push before Cori half-jumped, half-plopped in her lap. Cori thought nothing of sitting backwards – on Pepper – and throwing her legs through the chair arms. The chair shot back and popped slightly as the gears and bolts tried to hold their combined weight. She and Pepper collapsed to the floor.

Cori squealed delightedly, wrapping Pepper in a strong, happy hug. The redhead had wanted to marry her boss for quite some time! It was a big step for both of them.

"_Yes_!" Tony breathed out with a grateful nod, glad someone said it. Tony Stark was a man of eloquence until Ms. Pepper Potts – soon to be Mrs. Stark – came into play. He stumbled over his words or would forget whatever was on his mind entirely. And he was a private man; declaring the end of his playboy ways for his secretary was hard to admit. It was still hard for _him_ to believe, frankly.

"And I've called you all here today to discuss our wedding arrangements. Pepper and I thought it best to have a private ceremony, and then a public celebration because, you know, the public can't get enough of us."

And Tony was back, boasting and all. Pepper just giggled. As if remembering he held something in his hand, Tony started up a presentation.

"You have all this planned already?" Steve was highly amused. Tony planned nothing, as far as he knew. Stark was very much a 'think of a way to live, to avoid a meeting, to escape in the next three seconds' kind of guy.

"Expediting the process, Cap. Welcome to the twenty-first century." smirked Tony.

The next hour was spent viewing angles of the booked garden and hotel in Hawaii, questioning about allergies as the tentative menus were presented, and explaining the color scheme of his tropical-esk wedding. "And," Tony moved to the next slide, "Pepper and I made pairs for the bride and groom party."

Bruce blushed deeply. He'd been paired with Cori. Clint and Natasha were the only other defined couple. Tony said it was up to Steve and Thor who their partner was, but made a point to say that partner would be properly evaluated – and sworn to secrecy – by Pepper and himself.

"Everything else has been coordinated and is waiting for us in Hawaii." Pepper assured as people began to ask questions about a backup plan if the weather soured, and what to do with potential crashers.

"We'll be leaving a week early for the ceremony." announced Tony. "Pepper and I need to practice the traditions, and I figured we'd all want to spend more than one day there."

"What significance does this 'Hawaii' have to you, Friend Stark?" Thor wondered, captivated by the slides of colorful flowers, lush greenery, and gorgeous waters.

"It's where Pepper and I first got to spend an evening together." recalled Tony with light fondness. "We walked along the beach in Honolulu as the sun set."

"If you remember correctly," interjected Pepper with a sweet smile and eyes that began to water, "you were partially intoxicated and I had to walk you back to the hotel."

Tony chuckled, unfazed. "I lied, Pep. I wasn't actually drunk. I just wanted to get you down on the beach and away from work." he grinned shamelessly.

"Oh, so when you 'fell' in the ocean and took me with you that wasn't an accident?"

"Nope." he turned away from his future wife and back to his teammates. "But it _did_ make you smile. And when I saw how you looked in the sunset…as I watched your hair curl from the salt water…I knew I wanted to come back to Hawaii with you. I knew I wanted to make you smile and marry you."

Her face was as red as her hair. "Oh Tony!" Pepper's eyes resumed their watering as her lib wobbled.

"Now watch, his vows are going to suck because he said that here, out loud, when he should've saved it!" teased Cori.

"Shut it, Squirt!" demanded Tony in a harmless bark. Coriander cackled. Tony shut off the overhead projector and killed the distance between Pepper and himself. "Go get acquainted," he advised the group, giving Pepper an Eskimo kiss. Some shuffled out with respect, others peeled out for fear of an unshakeable image being burned into their brains.

Before Coriander could fully escape the room she heard Tony say, "Teach Bruce how to dance, too!"

* * *

"C'mon, Bruce! Tony said I have to teach you how to dance!" Cori found him immersed in books about Hawaii. Again.

Bruce looked up at her from a tome on Hawaiian plants and swallowed. He _really_ didn't want to do this. But…it was for Tony, and with the way Tony looked at Pepper Bruce knew he'd only get married once. Banner didn't want to be _that _guy who mucked him his best friend's only wedding, so he reluctantly followed her to the Smash Room. Cori had tried for days to get him to dance in the living room, but Bruce wouldn't have it.

He appreciated her belief that he didn't need the Smash Room, but he did. Bruce's body was honed by running and yoga, not dancing. Hell, Banner didn't even know the last time he'd danced! Girls in school never really propositioned him for a dance, he recalled. "I won't really know what the wedding music's like until we get there, but you can never go wrong with a simple waltz!"

"But…it's Hawaiian…" Bruce mumbled almost bashfully.

"I know." Cori grinned. "I've been looking up ceremonial dances on _YouTube_. Tony told me your, uh…previous activities, and I just figured something more American would be easier to pull off if you can't move your body like that, you know?"

She knew, but she didn't want to be talking about his body. It was awkward. Mostly because he was standing in front of her, looking bashful and somewhat innocent. Did he not know how sexy he looked? Rumor had it, Cori heard, there was quite a body under those clothes.

_Don't think about that now!_ she scolded herself. "C'mon, Bruce!" Cori coaxed him into a dancing position, placing his hands when he seemed too nervous to do so himself. It was a quality she found gentlemanly and adorable. "Don't look at your feet!" she lightly admonished not even a minute later, one hand flowing upward gracefully to fix his chin.

"Sorry." he apologized.

"Don't apologize, Bruce. It's not a huge crime. Just don't look at your feet or you'll—"

Somewhere between watching what her feet were doing, trying to hide his gaze, and listening, his feet had gotten tangled with hers. They collapsed in a heap on the "road" of fake Manhattan.

"Fall." finished Cori, her blush hidden by his dark curls. Bruce had instinctively laced and braced his hands in a cradle fashion against her head. That resulted in her face being snuggled against his clean, soft curls. His musky scent wafted into her nose, tinged with shampoo and body wash.

"Sorry." Bruce repeated, as red as her.

"I'm going to pinch you every time you say that." warned Cori, finding his willingness to be polite and proper very sweet but somewhat annoying. He didn't have to apologize for everything like he seemed to be doing. Because – as far as Cori knew – Bruce didn't control gravity. Gravity definitely helped them fall and put them in this situation.

"Are you alright, Doctor Banner? And you, Ms. Henson?" JARVIS' smooth voice echoed in the Smash Room.

"Yes, JARVIS." replied Bruce, brushing himself off and straightening his clothes.

"Don't you have anything better to do, JARVIS?" Cori growled to the AI, blushing.

"I'm doing nothing more than what I was programmed to." swore JARVIS.

"How so?" Cori wondered dryly.

"Mr. Stark asked me to keep an eye on both you and Dr. Banner while he's preoccupied with Ms. Potts. In the event that something mortifying occurs, I'm to tape it and comment on it as I'm doing now. And he's _quite_ busy, I'll have you know." informed the AI.

"I'm gonna disassemble you one day. Fury would count that as training, I think."

"It will be hard to pass my programs, Ms. Henson." warned JARVIS. "And I'll just tell Mr. Stark you intend to violate me. His methods of defusing you are uncanny and amusing."

"Methods?" Bruce cleaned idly at a spot on his glasses.

"Ms. Henson finds it hard to function under embarrassment." JARVIS told him, sounding as if he was beaming proudly.

"Anything _else_ to say, JARVIS?" Cori crossed her arms, beginning to tap her foot impatiently. The AI was as bad as Tony! Bruce took a few more minutes to clean his glasses, squinting past the frames to watch Cori's contained temper tantrum. She was just beginning to flush again, clearly displeased. Her cheeks were reddened from embarrassment more than rage.

Her lips were thin but pouty.

_Maybe this arrangement won't be so bad_, Bruce mused.

"In lieu of the recent tangle, why not settle for getting to know one another?"

"That's—"

"You seem to have objections, Ms. Henson. Is it because I've irked you, perhaps? Why not leave it to a vote?"

"How did you know I would—"

"Mr. Stark has preprogrammed me with typical behavior patterns of the house and gave me algorithms to predict their mood, as well as what they might say in various situations. It cuts down on the chance of a doppelganger successfully infiltrating the tower with ill intent."

_Smart computer_, thought Cori.

"Now, who wants to talk instead of dance?"

Bruce raised his hand. "I do!"

* * *

Honolulu was charming in every way, Bruce decided. They'd only been in Hawaii a few days, but that was enough for The Other Guy to like it. Hulk adored the warmth and he admired the sunset. A constant perfume of local flowers and fruits didn't hurt, either.

"Thought I'd find you out here!" the voice he'd now come to know like his own said laughingly. JARVIS' advice for them to get to know one another worked out quite well. Bruce found there were many things to admire about the young woman. Her persistence to become normal in the face of brain surgery was most striking, as it reminded him of his own quest for normality. Cori's fingers were moist and sticky with chunks of native fruit.

Bruce politely declined the coconut bowl, choosing to lose himself once again in the tranquility of the sea. After several rehearsals of the wedding rituals he'd ventured from the garden to the beach. The setting sun created a perfect picture and perfect temperature for the sand. He came out here to relax; she walked the beach to escape. The doctor knew little about Tony's closeness with Cori's parents – or about her family, in general – but knew that they'd come to help the engaged couple celebrate.

He'd met Honey and Brie the second day of rehearsal. Bruce preferred her parents, he had to admit. They were actually _older_ than him and liked to have serious conversations. Brie, her immediate older sister, did, too, but found talking hard with her children going crazy with awe. The doctor took no offense to it, though; it was easy to see raising a family didn't permit the luxuries experienced at a billionaire's private wedding.

Honey was a bit more to take. The mere thought of her made Bruce's mouth sour. She presented herself nicely – as a pretty face would – but spoke with unbecoming venom that struck _the_ nerve. Nerves that only bullies of his past had unwittingly tapped before. Her barbed words were planted discretely in casual conversation like landmines waiting to blast away Cori's control.

Frankly, Bruce was surprised she'd held out for so long. Bruce always managed to look occupied – or like he wasn't listening – when Honey circled around Coriander like a bee. _An evil bee_! he thought as the giggle- and alcohol-laced comments came to mind.

_"It's great that Mr. Stark let you come! Aren't you excited? It feels nice to do something simple like this, doesn't it? Your mind must still be a _mess_!"_

_"Always a bridesmaid and never a bride, hm?"_

_"So how's work? Do you still go? Do they have something for you to do at Starbucks after the, you know…?"_

_"Your makeup looks great! Did Tony hire someone to do it?"_

"It's nice out here." Cori conceded, watching the waves swallow one another as they drenched the shore and shrank back. She was dressed in multiple pieces of a light, local fabric loosely tied in a head-scratching maze of twists. Coriander untied the top piece that acted as a cape or shawl-like cover and let it flutter back against the sand like a towel. The young woman snuggled into the cool sand, bowl propped up on her stomach as her toes wiggled freely.

"View's good." agreed Banner, settling beside her with little thought. They'd bonded over the weeks. She'd even convinced him to dance in the living room once or twice, and Bruce could complete several rounds of the waltz without so much as a twitch. He no longer looked at his feet; over the past few weeks Bruce had come to see the quiet, intelligent woman in a new light.

That same light shone over her every time he saw her. It made her much more interesting than his toes or how they were moving with hers.

"Sunset's not like this in Manhattan." noted Cori, almost wishing she could bottle it up and take it back with her.

"Actually I was talking about you, but the sunset's nice, too." Bruce grinned in his shy and sly way as she gave an honest laugh and covered her face like a flattered schoolgirl. Those moments were rare and private, but he shared them with her. It's like he'd Tony one night after weeks of bugging and teasing about his libido and The Other Guy, "I'm not a virgin, Tony! I was lucky enough to get that far _before_ The Other Guy. I just have to be careful about it now! I _know_ what sex is and I _do_ get those urges, _sir_."

And he was getting those urges now. Tony jokingly said the beach was blessed with cheesy romantic magic, as he and Pepper had fallen in love and were now getting married. Looking at her now, painted by the myriad of colors framing the setting sun, Bruce believed it. She glowed with youth and nature, her green eyes glittering and striking against the yellows and pinks.

"You are the only thing keeping me from drowning Honey. That, and her son." giggled Cori, rolling over to her stomach. Bruce absently rolled onto his side to fully drink her in. They were deceptively but comfortably casual with one another. It was a blurry casualty that could be mistaken and misinterpreted as a lover's relationship in a moment of weakness. Banner firmly believed that either one of them could have a "moment of weakness" and the other wouldn't care.

It would be welcomed, even.

Bruce just chuckled. "Am I?" he inquired teasingly, feigning innocence.

"You are." confirmed Cori, propped up on her elbows in a way that made her cleavage unknowingly inviting. Bruce had the decency and willpower to keep his eyes locked on her face. Her green eyes slid into a half-lidded state in response. Even if he hadn't let his eyes wander, she knew. They'd been housing and fanning a primal fire for quite some time, even if it went unaddressed.

The fire was exacerbated by Tony's generous wedding invitation. A place like Honolulu was _meant_ for lovers. Sneaking around like a pair of forbidden children as her parents and family slept floors and doors away in the hotel they shared didn't help. It just aggravated Bruce. And tickled the scientist who liked to calculate odds and possibilities, of course.

Bruce felt her hand drift tentatively up the material of his shirt. He could've stopped it, could've drowned the embers, but didn't. He _wanted_ to feed the fire. Cori made him feel alive in a way he hadn't known since his younger days. The attraction he harbored for her went beyond her looks and the way she could ignite him like wood.

He was vaguely certain that she initiated the kiss. Bruce deduced that her hand had traveled up his chest, smoothed gently around the chord in his neck, and cupped the back of his head. Banner _knew_ he did the kissing back and leaning over her part. Cori had expected to barely escape with a peck from the usually reserved man, and found herself squealing in surprise and glee as he not only kissed back but straddled her lazily. Banner intended to take full advantage of Honolulu's calming warmth and the general stress that came with the wedding.

A chance like this wouldn't present itself in the tower. Here, in Honolulu, the team was busy sightseeing, getting prepared for bed, or helping watch Brie's kids. He had her _all _to himself.

"Bruce!" gasped Cori in an airy giggle, the feel of his two-day stubble tickling the delicate underside of her chin. His lips were like a conductor, she thought. Her nerves fired off like thousands of delicious but painfully short lightning bolts all running up to meet his mouth.

"Yeah?" his lust-darkened eyes floated up with the rest of his face. His lips were slightly reddened from where he curled and pressed them adamantly against her skin.

"Why?" was all Cori could ask. Such attention was unusual for him. Banner smiled with a hint of sheepishness.

"Honolulu relaxes Hulk. And, science aside, I wanted to kiss you."

Cori blushed.

"And I _really_ want to piss off Honey. And I'm going to." Bruce murmured, inching closer to her face. There was little doubt in his mind that Honey would come looking for them. She was more a bridezilla than Pepper, and insisted on policing Cori. Bruce would – he hoped – scare the woman off once and for all. Or shut her up where Cori's lack of dating and decreased chances of marriage was concerned.

"You do?" Cori managed to ask once Bruce's tongue quit pillaging her mouth.

"I do."

* * *

After a week of sitting in one another's company on the beach, and hanging out in a leisure area inside the hotel, walking arm-in-arm with Cori felt natural. Bruce was honestly surprised that he'd remembered to move arm-in-arm with her. Hawaiian weddings were largely different from American weddings! Always the wanderer and curious man, he'd drunk in the practices of Hawaiian weddings from day one. It hadn't lost its magic, not even after a week!

The local minister, known as a _kahu_, had escorted Tony down the aisle while chanting. Obeying tradition, Tony wore all white, save for a red sash. After his arrival mothers of the bride and groom are shown to their seats by family members. Bruce felt a bit bad that there was no mother on Tony's side, but wouldn't think of that now lest he mess something up. He and Cori had just separated to stand beside Tony and Pepper respectively, the rest of the wedding party following suit.

Steve and his attending partner, Liberty, had just separated. They were the end of the bridal party. As planned, a local blew a conch shell. The note echoed in the air, calling the elements – earth, sea, air, and fire – to witness the coming union. Pepper breezed gracefully across the sand, clad in a similar, flowing white gown. Atop her head sat a beautifully woven crown of native flowers.

_Now comes the hard part,_ Bruce refrained from grinning too widely. In the beginning he and Cori had been selected to assist with the exchanging of leis, but Bruce recommended Pepper's parents. A week was barely enough time to run into and fix the snafu. The scientist thought it would mean more – to both Pepper and Tony – if they did it instead of him. Tony's _maile_ lei was given to Pepper, and she gave him her white ginger lei.

Once the bride and groom exchange leis – _here's where her parents come in_, recognized Bruce – the couple's parents give them leis. Bruce could only assume it represented some kind of blessing. He hoped having both leis bestowed by Pepper's parents – instead of the groom's parents offering one to the bride, vice versa, or each parents giving their actual child a lei – didn't mean anything bad in the culture. As per tradition, Tony gave leis to Pepper's parents to show he accepted them as his in-laws.

Sounds of ukuleles and slack-key guitars filled the air. "Waiting for Thee", the Hawaiian wedding song, announced the beginning of the ceremony. Hula dancers pantomimed in the background, behind the _kahu_, as he led Tony and Pepper through the recitations. Bruce and Cori held out the rings – as they were told – while the _kahu_ dipped a koa wood bowl into the ocean and submerged a _ti_ lead in it. Highly fascinated, learning about the culture while he had the chance, Bruce asked about the significance of the wood and leaf.

A koa bowl represented strength and integrity, he learned. They were attributes important to the sacred bond of matrimony. The leaf was synonymous to prosperity and health, something valuable to both marriage and the couple. Saturated with water from the koa bowl, the leaf was shaken three times over the rings. Once the _kahu _stopped chanting Tony and Pepper were moved into the 'circle of love', a halo of tropical blossoms.

Together, as bride and groom, Tony and Pepper united themselves with rings and another tradition: sand. Two different colored sands – red for Pepper and gold for Tony – were poured and shaken. The blended sand represented their newly formed, unbreakable bond. The last tradition of the Hawaiian people was to wrap a lava rock – a symbol of their commitment – in a _ti_ leaf and leave it at their wedding site to commemorate the event.

To Americanize the wedding, as a 'thank you' for the ones who flew to Hawaii, Pepper and Tony decided to throw a bouquet. It was after their dance, of course, but people were still readily awaiting it. Married women eagerly stepped aside. Coriander tried to slip off with her sisters but Natasha snatched her back like a ferocious tiger. "Oh no!" she growled, "If I have to suffer, you do too!"

Liberty, Natasha, and Coriander stood with a few locals and Brie's children. Pepper turned around and blindly chucked the bouquet of sweet, gorgeous flowers. Cori was gently admonishing the antsy children dancing around, reminding them to be polite, when something smacked her in the face. The bouquet bounced off her chest and into her hands. For a moment nothing happened.

"GET IT AWAY FROM ME! GET IT AWAY!" she was only twenty-something! She didn't want to be married! Not unless Bruce wanted to marry her, that was. Coriander threw the bouquet at Natasha who promptly threw it back.

"Quit throwing it at me!" snapped Natasha, kicking her leg up as Coriander sent it back again. The nice bundle arced high over the head of laughing, jumping children. Clint tried to charge past Steve, but bumped him. That small series of motions put Bruce right in the path of the bouquet. Mostly bemused and highly amused, he clenched the bouquet gently in a fist.

He wordlessly approached Coriander, holding out the bouquet. She didn't ward it off like an accursed item….just stared. Bruce held it out like the silent offering it was. They'd done too many things in one week – felt too many things for it to just be a fling. For age to matter – not to feel a connection or love for one another. _Say it_, his eyes begged as he held the bouquet out with the obviousness of his heart on his sleeve, _take the bouquet with me and tell me 'I do'._

Her hand slowly closed around the flowers.

_I do._


	29. Strangers in the Night

We Need to Quit Meeting like This

* * *

**AN: **Thanks to Maymayliu for reviewing the last chapter! Sorry I've been gone so long! I've been buried in notebooks and story ideas outside of Fanfic xD. I was recently re-inspired to tackle Bannerander when I downloaded a Bruce shimeji ("desktop buddy" for those of you that are unfamiliar) from DA (user is: ecokitty). I tried to download a Tony or Steve one, but none of them would work for me.

I found it ironic that Bruce is the only one that worked xD. It's like the cosmos saying, "Pandii! Get to work and write something about Bruuuuceeeee!" so here I am.

This one is based off the notion that Bruce and Cori haven't met, but fool around thinking, "Why not? This person's not bad. And, hey, when's the next time I'll run into them?"

WARNING: Somewhat angsty and primal.

Note: Thinking of starting an amusing mini-story called _Avengers .VS. Aunt Flow_. Because, honestly, don't some of us want to know how superheroes would react? I mean...they can't be prepared for EVERYTHING, right? If I do make it, I'll need some female fillers for some of the symptoms. Shooting for four to seven chapters. I'll be using Cori, Pepper, Natasha, and Liberty for sure. Feel free to submit your own OC. Just tell me:

Who do they like?

Do they have a job?

What's their personality the rest of the month?

How tall are they?

What do they weigh?

What's their eye, hair, and skin color?

How old are they?

What's their name?

Do they have any talents?

and, lastly,

How did they meet their Avenger?

* * *

Strangers in the Night

It was a reflex of Bruce's to hide amongst people and go to places others might not look for him. That reflex was battling with his habit of finding quiet places to lie low. The club was hardly quiet, but he didn't totally hate it. Part of him missed such a boisterous and over-decorated sign of society.

The partiers were healthy, as evident by their various states of undress. He saw no bones threatening to protrude through thin, sickly skin. No, these people were quite confident with their bodies. They were confident and oblivious, grinding against one another, making out, or fighting their way towards the bar for more drinks.

He kept his head down for the most part. Bruce didn't want to make any eye contact for fear of being spotted. The doctor felt wildly out of place, and feared his age was just as obvious to these people as being a nerd was in school. Being smarter, just like being older, seldom attracted company. Not the company he desired, at any rate.

Bruce hunched shyly over his glass of water, fingers lightly tapping the side. Turning his back from the sea of bodies sprinkled with women kept him calm. It kept him and the Hulk in check. Banner usually endured a small window of irrationality and emotional oddness when moving to a new place. He chalked it up to his 'fight or flight' systems finally calming down.

But, somewhere inside, he knew it was a lie. He was merely trying to cover up a sad and understandable reality with lies and science. The heart of Bruce's frustration and stress was owed to his celibacy. It had been _years_ since he'd so much as _smelled_ a healthy woman. In areas like India, where he'd freshly dodged military forces, his libido was infected and shriveled by the peoples' sickness.

It was wrong and impossible to find a woman who was – probably – sixty pounds highly attractive. Gaunt figures and a lack of fat evident enough to mask sexual characteristics left Bruce frowning, not frisky. Though he didn't like drinking, and found it a potential breaker for any possible relationships, he liked it in this atmosphere. People would be more willing to talk to him and approach him with the aid of the drink, he thought. His usual company – graphs, charts, Latin, and his own blood – left him out of practice where women were concerned.

Bruce was a brilliant man – a doctor, a scientist, a practitioner of nuclear physics. He'd learned multiple languages on the fly during his mad dash across the globe. And yet…his brain and tongue did nothing to attract the women around him. The realization was frustrating because women were supposed to adore men of a decent height with dark hair like his. Being able to speak foreign languages should be icing on their mental cakes.

But, of course, these deductions and beliefs were gleaned from romance novels. They weren't totally incorrect, but they weren't totally accurate. Something odd, but not his radiated DNA, acted as an invisible warning sign to the female populous. If he was glanced at, at all, it was brief. Painfully brief.

While he technically fit the stereotype of attractive – nice height, dark hair, moderately attractive in his own quiet and scholarly way – he technically _didn't_ at the same time. Bruce wanted eagerly to blame it on the Hulk, but couldn't. The scientist quietly and mentally admitted that he had his own shortcomings. One was being generally suspicious of the interest of people. People like General Ross and the girls who charmed him into doing their homework were mostly to blame.

Doubts about his age and how that would go over in a conversation were also responsible for his isolation. His inability to have a normal conversation – how could an abnormal man have one, anyways? – that strayed from science and didn't rely on a sentence more than eight words failed to help. Bruce's self-test seeking to determine whether or not he was ready to be reintroduced into complex, modernized society felt like a failure. The more he thought about it, the more he didn't match up to his idea of a worthy and functional city-dweller. _Triggers are everywhere_, Bruce noticed, _I shouldn't have come_.

In places like India he had the luxury of silence and distance. Manhattan was crowded and noisy, just like the nightclub. Part of him relished places like this, though. Clichés about mysterious strangers blowing into town, into the arms of a curious, beautiful huntress desiring exoticness, never ceased to make him laugh and loathe. He laughed because the nature of that relationship was predictable and understandable; he hated it because he could _be_ that man if someone ever gave him the change.

No one ever did, and he hated it. For all his caution and doubt, Bruce _knew _he would be a good lover. Memories of his father taught him how _not_ to act. His imagination, fueled by years of abstinence, primed him for heated encounters that would make _Penthouse_ no better than a laughable child's book on how children were created. _I just need a chance to prove it! _he frowned down into his water.

"Hey, bartender, give me two Washington Apples, a Strawberry Kamikaze, and a Michelangelo." requested the impolite and cocky-sounding youngster at Bruce's left. Bruce resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Suaveness had clearly gone into hiding when he did. The man had poorly combed hair that resembled bedhead, didn't use manners, and was practically waving his money around.

_Yeah…this was a bad idea._ Bruce subtly rubbed the bridge of his nose. He decided to be nice to SHIELD and gradually enter their territory. Banner noticed a few operatives carrying the eagle-like symbol tracking him. They didn't get close – due to orders or the want to preserve their life – but they made themselves known. Being a brilliant man, Bruce knew he could play one government agency against another and earn safety.

This night would determine whether or not he bartered and played that card. If he could handle the irritations he'd forgotten existed with cars, electricity, and a higher population, he would allow one of the SHIELD agents to find and guide him to their organization. But that was only _if_ this night turned out to be worthwhile. And, so far, it wasn't.

"This is a _fine _way to come back to Manhattan." growled a young female voice. Bruce detected a light southern drawl. "Now I'm starting to remember why I left." grumbled a dark-haired woman.

"Why did you leave?" Banner couldn't help but ask.

"Idiots." replied the woman quickly and thoughtlessly. Her tone was dry and flat. Bruce chuckled, straightening slightly. At least _someone _shared his pain. "I didn't come back to hear cheesy pickup lines." explained the young woman.

"You should be flattered." Bruce assured. "Maybe not by the monkey in a suit, but by the fact people want to give you such compliments. I certainly don't get any." he mused, sipping the water.

"Hey!" the woman sounded lightly wounded. Why, he couldn't imagine. He hadn't insulted _her_. "You're a fine fella! Don't discredit yourself like that!"

She was most definitely southern. It made Bruce chuckle. As much as he liked the flattery, he also had to admit she was either naturally sweet or overly generous. The doctor raised his head to make contact with the flatterer. His dark-haired supporter was deemed as out of place as him in a matter of seconds.

Instead of wearing something revealing or sequined, she went casual. Her face wasn't overly painted or tackily dewy like those who layered on cosmetics. A long-strapped and somewhat bulky purse hung securely and crookedly across her slender body. She looked too rural for the metropolis.

He looked too old and scholarly, he thought. Maybe a bit odd considering he hadn't shaved in a few days. Bruce was still wearing his suit from India (but, thankfully, it had been cleaned). "You don't think I'm old?" he wondered meekly.

"Are you? You don't look it. I like 'em older, anyways. Wait…now I'm curious. _Are_ you?" her rapid transition from skepticism to honesty to intrigue had Bruce chuckling. He was definitely the older one between them; he could tell. Aside from her comments and mannerisms, she had a slight glow to her naked face. One that hadn't been stripped and weathered by the world.

But…it was cute. The fact that she didn't believe him, and questioned him, had Bruce feeling a bit proud. All of his yoga and running had him fitter than most boys that would pine after her, he imagined. And, obviously, she was _looking_ at him! It was delicious.

She wasn't blatantly predatory in her poorly disguised evaluation of him, but Bruce could tell she was drifting that way. Her curiosity was swiftly meandering down the sultry path instead of the unsafe one. He resisted the urge to shudder. That look, though innocent, was all primal. It struck heavily at the lock holding back the beast that wished to shame _Penthouse_.

Everyone deserved happiness, right? If only briefly?

"You don't think I look…_scruffy_?" Bruce felt like some kind of pitiful teen relying on his friends for reassurance. But, of course, she wasn't a friend. He scratched lightly at the dark fuzz on his throat and chin absently.

"Honestly?" _and here it comes! _Bruce thought, preparing himself for rejection. He was never enough. There was always a flaw. "I was distracted by your eyes. Wow…that's stupid. Sorry, but it's true! They're like milk chocolate with hints of caramel—and now I want a Milky Way." she sighed wistfully, scoop-neck tee relaxing with her posture.

Bruce politely averted his eyes from what he thought was an obvious but not obnoxious chest. Her blue-green bra matched her shirt, he noted.

"Thanks." Bruce grinned. "I like your eyes, too. Green's a…uh, huge part of my life, actually." he pushed the emptying glass nervously between his hands.

"Any room in your life for me?"

"Excuse me?" his heart fluttered. She was being so…so blunt! So forward! It was sexy. And a relief; one of them being awkward was enough, and he easily claimed that.

"Preferably in the next five minutes?"

"Wh—"

"Kind of rude, babe. You splash me with the Michelangelo and run off! How about you make it up to me?"

"By putting my foot in your ass? Gladly. Turn around." invited Bruce's conversation partner. Rage and sarcasm rolled off of her in palpable waves. She was exciting his sensitive hormones and radiated DNA. He felt overly focused and alert; it was in response to her maliciousness and her boldness. Bruce would let her handles this – he was too charged to intervene and have it end cleanly.

And, truth be told, he'd rather turn that charge on _her_. Bruce watched the scene with interest.

"Are you at least going to give me the money back for the drink?" grumpily asked the young man.

"If you hadn't been so insensitive in our conversation I wouldn't have thrown it at you!" hissed Cori.

"You were casual about it! I thought a joke was harmless!"

"It is if it's _good_!" Cori crossed her arms angrily. "But, I'm sorry. Yours sucked. I tell you I had brain surgery and you respond with 'Then maybe I can ruin the rest of it tonight at my place.'? The only thing you ruined was my libido, pal! If anything, you owe _me_ money for that travesty!"

"A woman such as yourself being dateless is the true travesty." Bruce joined in her gleeful humiliation of the man, toasting the young lady. She smiled gratefully, a hint of pink on her cheeks.

"Leaving those sweet lips lonely sounds worse." teased Cori, batting dark lashes at him.

_Right in the lock! Again_! Bruce barely stifled his groan. He had to kiss this woman. _Now_. If he didn't he would surely Hulk out with rage. It _would_ technically solve her problem of Lame Larry whining behind her.

_Good god! 'Lame Larry'? I AM old…_Bruce grimaced lightly.

Coriander took advantage of his absentmindedness. Bruce's heart began to thunder as he realized her face was drawing nearer. She grasped him firmly by the collar of his undershirt and planted her lips to his. The kiss was sweet, close-lipped, and drove Bruce wild. It was the spark that started an inferno.

One of her hands floated cautiously to rub gentle circles on his stubble-laden cheek. Bruce roped an arm loosely about her petite waist, forcing her to stand against his chair. He needed her close. The smell of a musky citrus perfume invaded his nostrils. She uttered a surprised, quiet mewl against his lips.

"Not in here! Not in here! Take it elsewhere!" demanded the bartender, prepared to spray them. Coriander gripped Bruce's shirt tightly, letting him know he wouldn't get away. He dropped a few dollars down for the water and let her drag him outside.

"I don't—I don't usually kiss women in dingy alleys. It's an insult to the woman, really. I-I like to show them that they matter and—"

"Adorable." she breathed, shimmying up against him as she struggled to meet his eyes, all but throwing him against the wall with her demanding and willowy frame. "And noble, really." Cori pushed his slipping glasses up his nose. "But if you don't kiss me I'm going to be insulted." her lips seemed hypnotizing and plump. His body was still burning from their last kiss.

Part of Bruce was shy. Part of him was hungry for the company and touch he'd lacked for years. "Kiss me or I'll kiss you." warned Cori.

"Why does that sound like a threat?" Bruce laughed nervously, wishing he had a sultry timbre to his voice. It was the wicked and steamy situation he'd always wished would happen when he entered a new area. Now that it was…well, he was anything but that handsome stranger. He was more or less a flustered virgin schoolboy.

"Because I intend to be evil and seduce you into compliance. Or a stupor. Or something similarly evil-sounding." Cori fearlessly kissed up his neck. She wasn't usually so reckless and loose, but this man hit her in _all_ the right mental feels. He had glasses, was older, and his eyes were _drop dead gorgeous_ and _loveable_.

They screamed sensitive cuddler. And his attire? That of a dapper gentleman. He appealed to her long-standing fantasy of a charismatic older man who could be as energetic as she was eloquent. His type was perfect. Pepper would easily classify him as a Tony Stark type, what with his way of speaking and all. Tony Stark types, according to her dear lady friend, were absolutely delicious _animals_ in bed.

At twenty-six she'd had some less-than-stellar romance experiences. Hardly enough to call them all less than stellar, but they all honestly sucked. Though opinionated and hard-headed, she'd never done anything reckless. Cori was sexually and emotionally frustrated. She wanted to find _the_ person; she wanted a taste of love.

Fuck, she was tired of everyone _else_ having it! She wanted it! And she'd definitely want it from him.

Bruce's laugh turned into a low, shocked moan as her lips sucked at the base of his throat. She nipped the end of his clavicle. His musky scent was encompassing and comforting. And yummy. He felt her straining to shorten the distance between them so she could kiss the soft spot beneath his jaw.

Bruce wanted _more_. He lifted her up, hands squeezing at her jeaned rump. She mewled again, the same sound he'd heard against his mouth. The scientist endured the delicious agony of her ravishing lips, waiting until she approached his mouth. Then, when she did, Bruce turned the tables.

Cori found her back pressed to the opposite wall. Bruce formed as comfortable a cradle as his hands could provide while his lips massaged hers. She leaned into him, inviting him to take her bruising lips. He was a passionate kisser, but didn't seem to have any other technique besides an adamant kiss. Bruce trembled lightly when she took his lower lip between her teeth like it was a piece of candy to toy with.

She broke away, grinning victoriously. "Just trying to spice it up." she winked, playing with his curls.

Spice it up? He was all heat. She just didn't know. Their kissing resumed innocently, like it had in the beginning, but quickly built up into a needy fight between tongues and hands. Bruce was pleased to note she grabbed at him with as much zeal, if not more.

This one night was enough. It would be bittersweet, but it was enough. Bruce knew returning to the city – to cities in general – was a bad idea because of something precisely like this. Answering the call of temptation, the desire to love as all people should be able to, would only drag someone else into the awful reality that was his life.

That was unacceptable. The doe-eyed deceiver didn't deserve that. Her lightning-quick sarcasm would provide relief, but he feared she'd be too changed to make conversation like they'd done in the bar. No…it was safest to let this – as wondrous as it may be – stay here. Her hands smoothed devotedly up the small of his lean back, traveling his semi-broad shoulders until her fingers pointed towards one another to start climbing the sides of his neck.

Bruce shivered as her pinky finger skipped along his earlobe in its quest to join the others tangling at the nape of his neck. He pulled up from the hickey, hating the feeling of his ears being messed with. It was a heinous but necessary end to their lusty, whirlwind adventure. "Sorry." Bruce kissed the mark.

"Me too." breathed the young woman, fixing a wayward curl. "I have to get going. I'm staying in-town with someone and I don't want them to worry. I'm not a one night kind of girl, though. Can I get to know you, you know…outside of this?"

"I'd love that." Bruce grinned. "But…"

"Oh you ass!" Cori couldn't help but jump to conclusions. "You're married, aren't you?!"

"N-No. No! Not at all. No tan line, see?" he pointed to his ring finger. Cori relaxed slightly.

"Then what is it?"

"I...I'm kind of on the run. Some people are after me." admitted Bruce. "I'd tell you my name if it wouldn't get you killed."

_Did I just make out with a convict? Shit…it was fun, though_.

His confession hit her in the sympathy spot. Handsome, gentlemanly, and _pursued_? She sincerely hoped it was a case of mistaken identity. Or that he was a total sexpot doubling as a crafty evil genius who would spirit her away for some intimate and wholesome times. Showing a side only she would know and all the horrific clichés she couldn't believe she acknowledged or wanted at that moment.

She squeezed his hands gently. "I hope you stay safe, then."

"I hope I come back." Bruce tilted her chin up to kiss her lips.

* * *

"Hey, Squirt!"

"Hey Tony." Cori yawned, hugging him. She lost her will to reunite with the troop after her mysterious gentleman bowed out. His absence created an ache and fatigue that drove her to Stark tower. He'd done well to make her a pile of boneless mush ready for sleep.

"Have a good flight?" Pepper inquired.

"It was fine. Got stuck next to a drunk guy." she shrugged. "I played with his mustache while he slept."

"I don't think that's a good thing, Cori." Pepper didn't see the appropriateness in that.

"Sure it is!" objected Tony. "Cori, go fall asleep so I can show her!"

Cori rolled her eyes. Sleep _was_ tempting. Tony giggled mischievously as she waved him off and trudged to her waiting bedroom in Stark Tower. She collapsed thoughtlessly into the sheets.

"Coriander? Ms. Coriander?"

"Shut up, JARVIS." demanded the girl before her eyes even opened. She'd forgotten about the robot and how he ruined wonderful things like sleep.

"Mr. Stark requests your presence in the living room, Ms. Coriander."

She was most certainly awake. The robot inspired rebuttals and threats that forced her mind to wake up. "Why?" she groaned out like a bratty child.

"Because he wants you to meet the new housemate, Ms. Coriander."

"Fine." she kicked off the sheets and rebelliously refused to make the bed. It was punishment for the AI, as he was programmed to keep the house tidy. Cori threw on a pair of cotton pants and combed her hair out with her fingers as she moved towards the living room. There, grinning ear-to-ear, was Tony Stark.

"Nice of you to join us!" he teased. "Squirt, meet Dr. Bruce Banner. He's a fellow brother in science Fury wants to keep an eye on." Tony clapped the man's back.

It took all of five seconds to place Bruce as the smooching stranger. The glasses, wild curls, and choice to wear nice dress pants clued her in. Milk chocolate eyes that reminded her of Milky Way bars also helped. His now clean and stubble-free cheeks heated as they locked eyes. He'd been caught, and he knew it.

"Coriander Henson." she extended her hand. He shook it.


	30. Beautiful

We Need to Quit Meeting like This

* * *

**AN: **Thank you to Sayuri-Yuuko, Lollypops101, HinataElyonToph, and Maymayliu for reviewing the last chapter (as well as any character ideas pertaining to _Avengers .VS. Aunt Flow_). If anyone cares, I'll be updating _Romancing Captain Rogers _very soon. I've got the next chapter partially finished.

But, on another note, strangely, Maymayliu, your Lyra is uncannily close to the character I designed for Loki xD. Even the name and some of the attributes!

I do not own Rob Thomas, any song lyrics used, or the _Avengers_.

This is dark fluff between Cori and Bruce. Inspired by my current mood ._.

But I don't really vent (in life or online), so we will leave it at that. Some of the symptoms for _Avengers vs. Aunt Flow_, such as loss of coordination, were looked up online. There's only so many that I know routinely happen to women (or myself).

Tentative lineup for _Avengers vs. Aunt Flow_ (feel free to make suggestions on symptoms or people who would be better suited for certain symptoms). Depending on approval/comments/suggestions, and how long it takes me to write my essay, it could be up by tomorrow at the latest.

No confirmed length. Could be a drabble or a sizeable oneshot.

Pepper Potts: Bloating (victim: Tony)

Liberty Ramsey: Fatigue (victim: Steve)

Coriander Henson: Bleeding (victim: Bruce/Hulk)

Natasha Romanoff: Mood Swings (Angry) (victim: Everyone. Mainly Clint.)

Agent Hill: Mood Swings (Sad) (victim: Fury/Coulson)

Jane Foster: Lack of coordination (victim: Mostly Jane. Thor by default.)

(submitted character) Lyra Jenkins: Headaches/social withdrawal (victim: Loki and Fandral)

(submitted character) Constance Grisham: Cramps (victim: Bruce Banner)

As always, please enjoy!

WARNING: PURE FLUFF AHEAD! And light depression. And one well-meaning slap.

Note: If this were to line up with _Doctor Patient Confidentiality, _it would be early on. For those of you who've read it, think before "Calling in the Special Forces".

Have to rustle up some more prompts…

* * *

Beautiful

Bruce watched Pepper enter the team floor with another armful of bags. He'd only recently returned to the states, but was able to recognize cosmetic giants like Sephora and Clinique. The redhead radiated stress and a hint of helplessness. Out of politeness and the willingness to stay uninvolved until a more solid plan came up – or a guide to twenty-six-year-olds on their menstrual cycle fell out of the sky – nothing was said.

Until Natasha bravely spoke up.

She was the only one to do so. Even the previously-frozen Steve and Asgardian Thor knew better than to comment on the emotional minefield known as women. Bruce, frowning into his tea and stirring it to look busy in the face of what would surely be a war between Natasha and Pepper, kept his ears open.

"Quit wasting your money on her." demanded Natasha, "Buying her cosmetics to fix a problem will further cement the idea that she needs to look for a cure or cover the second something unnatural comes along. Some things cannot be cured _or _hidden."

Pepper took a deep breath. She knew Natasha was speaking from a deadly assassin's standpoint. Potts was fully aware her experience and slightly icy words were coming from personal situations. Natasha was right – to an extent. At the same time, though, this was _Cori_.

Cori and Natasha were totally different people. They operated with different emotions. Natasha was clearly human, but Pepper had doubts that Natasha had ever truly felt vulnerable. Her fellow redhead was an unflinchingly strong and confident woman. It came with the ability to look enviable in a leather suit, Pepper supposed (_or the ability to kill with anything, even a chair or spork, _she thought).

Regardless, it was Pepper's personal _opinion _that Natasha should butt out and _shut up_. This was _her _Coriander they were talking about! Pepper clenched the bags in her fisting hands, hoping the pricy bottles and pots of cream concealer were enough to keep her from trying to pummel the woman. "She's very emotional right now," Pepper ground out, "this is her way of coping."

"It's a mad dash for tarnished normality." corrected Natasha.

Pepper's teeth gnashed together. She turned slightly to glare at the redhead over her shoulder. Then, very coolly, she said, "If they ever consider giving you an alias, please let me know. I have the _perfect _name for you! It matches the initials of your _beloved _Black Widow moniker, too!"

Unfazed, slightly amused, even, Natasha folded her arms across her chest. "Do tell." she invited, shifting her weight lazily to one foot.

"Bitchy Witch." Pepper stated, facing the hallway once more. Natasha just laughed.

"Easy, Pep." soothed Tony. "Why don't you go see Cori? I'm sure she could use cheering up."

"Don't you 'easy' _me_, Anthony!" spat Pepper with the vestiges of her anger as she stomped towards Coriander's locked door. JARVIS had been delivering her meals. No one but her was allowed entry. Everyone else communicated through JARVIS or the door. Pepper didn't outright blame Cori – was there such a thing as 'dramatic' when one found out they were forever abnormal, drafted to a superhero team, and menstruating on the same day? – but wished she wasn't so clamed up.

It was unhealthy. She knew how sensitive the girl was. Her emotions were painfully raw and obvious, probably amplified since she'd barely gotten over the brain surgery that saved her life. Coriander liked her independence but, despite the walls and façade she threw up, was emotionally fragile. Being forced to rely on Tony, Pepper, and physical therapists for help during her recovery was a major blow.

This, coming shortly after, had probably decimated the girl. Pepper was afraid to learn the true extent of the damage. There was no manual or article on how to handle this situation. The usually level and prepared assistant was at a loss for what to do – and she'd changed her boss' _arc reactor_! She just knew that Cori was sobbing her eyes out and trying to pretend the odd trio of green lines didn't exist.

She just knew she had to be there as a friend. Cori had to be shown that she wasn't a monster to be shunned. The younger girl needed to realize that she could show her face. Coriander needed to know that the _outside _world wouldn't fall apart or stop even if her _inside _world did. Rob Thomas' "Diamonds" poured from the room as Pepper slipped inside.

* * *

Bruce's fingers wormed under the bottom of his loaner glasses to rub his exhausted eyes. Working late in the lab was nothing unusual, but his current activity was. Surveying Coriander with JARVIS' help went against everything he believed in. He, himself, hated being watched.

But this was for a different reason. As her appointed doctor it was Bruce's job to make sure Coriander didn't go over _the _edge. Unlike him, she had no safety net. No way to return if she did something drastic. Hours had been wasted watching her frantically apply various cosmetics.

Most of it was ruined by her constant crying. What managed to stay on didn't totally hide the green glow like she wanted. The end result – even from his end of the monitor – looked cakey and unnatural. Bruce, like Pepper, was hoping she'd notice her newly-inherited disfiguration looked better than the mask. Unfortunately…that wasn't the case.

Coriander was taking the permanent change pretty hard. Bruce could understand. He empathized, even. Her condition was worsened by the natural influx of hormones, though. Logic and support couldn't deflate things like that. During _that _time of the month hormones created a confusing fog of irrationality as much as they did a cage of internal pain.

She'd finally fallen asleep. Her eyes were puffy from tears and the strain of hurriedly browsing _YouTube_ makeup tutorials. Banner was always angry. Tonight he was most angry about his inability to communicate. He, of all people, understood the whirlpool of suffocating and negative emotions she was drowning in the center of.

He just couldn't _communicate_! The age difference made it challenging. Envy over the fact that she was only abnormal in the eye – and not her entire _body _on her worst days – also choked him. Part of him couldn't talk because of the fact that he understood; because he could process the magnitude of her realization and the sense of alienation and helplessness.

It was almost enough to throw him back into his own memories of panic and self-loathing. The taste of metal registered shortly before a muffled _bang_! Bruce groaned and squeezed his brown eyes shut.

_She's down in it. She tried her best but now she can't win. It's hard to see them on the ground. Her diamonds falling._

_Ooh, I can't take no more. Her tears like diamonds on the floor. But her diamonds bring me down. Cause I can't help her now._

_I'll talk with her tomorrow, _Bruce decided. Waking her up tonight would be pointless. At least tomorrow she'd be somewhat rested and slightly less emotional (or so he hoped). "If it's any consolation, though," Banner spoke to the monitor, "I think you're beautiful."

But such was his luck. He only became a poet in silence.

* * *

Coriander tiptoed in absolute silence. The others were already up, she knew, but she didn't felt like being seen by them. They would probably try to talk to her. On any other day…for any other situation…she wouldn't mind. She refused to have a conversation about her recent change, though.

It would only cement the fact that her change was real. That nothing was helping and she'd woken up with the green oddity still there. She futilely splashed her face, frowning as the water and towel did nothing to take away her mark. The girl was physically exhausted from crying and the effects of her monthly cycle. Cori disappeared to apply makeup.

Fairly certain that the others were occupied, she crept to the kitchen for a peanut butter sandwich. JARVIS usually delivered her meals but she doubted a robot could easily smear such a sticky substance on bread.

Cori spread globs of the brown food on at lightning speed, mashed the somewhat lumpy sandwich together, and began to wolf it down.

"It's nice to see you out in the open." she heard. Swallowing a chunk of moist sandwich with no aid, Cori smacked her lips quietly and turned around. Bruce stood quietly and observantly in the doorway, dunking a teabag in a steaming cup like it was a donut in coffee. Cori frowned, turning her back to him. Of all the people to run into, it _would _be him, wouldn't it?

Unaffected by her silence and the shame that seemed to bend her spine like an old woman's, Bruce removed his teabag and strolled to the trashcan beside her. "You have a little schmutz right there." Cori turned to him, tracking his finger with her eyes. There was a dot of peanut butter by the corner of her mouth, but Bruce didn't swipe at that. He cupped her cheek gently, his thumb running solidly and strongly over the collection of product along her orbital bone. She realized his intentions too late, but still struck out.

Surprise flickered across her face before it contorted angrily and she smacked his hand away. "Don't touch me!" she growled.

"You _did _have something there." pointed out Bruce. His thumb was two-toned with pale ivory products.

"Yeah, makeup!" hissed Cori.

"No," Bruce shook his head, "schmutz. You were covered in it."

"That's what makeup does, Bruce! It covers!"

"Correct me if I'm wrong, but makeup is supposed to mask imperfections, yes?"

"…yeah. What of it?"

"You're using it wrong, then." determined Bruce, "Perfection needn't be covered." he left it at that and walked away.

_He's probably feeding me what I want to hear!_ Cori thought as she crammed the last of the sandwich in her mouth, threw the knife in the sink, and stomped to her room.

* * *

Bruce knew she could be saved, that her mood could be broken. He'd noticed a flicker of surprise and…and _relief_ when they'd spoken in the kitchen. Though he was rewarded with the harsh slam of her bedroom door, he didn't give up.

He was close.

"Throw the bait, Tony."

"As you wish." Tony pushed his welding goggles up into his hair and asked JARVIS to spread the lie. Coriander had been bugging him for four days to create a latex-like covering that would hide her unique feature. Tony had no intention of doing so, but wanted her to think otherwise. As a brother of science, he could not question Banner's methods – who else was better equipped to deal with anger, even if it was the anger of a woman coasting down from hormones? – and wouldn't. Bruce nicely and calmly suggested he find a way to remove himself from the area in case he needed to resort to his last – and drastic – idea.

Coriander arrived, as excited and chipper as Tony had seen her prior to her grim labeling of "abnormal". "Where is it?"

"I—sorry Squirt. Be back in a few. Pepper needs me."

"What? Now? B-but Tony!" Coriander jogged after him. Tony was a few seconds faster. The door slid shut, paying no mind to her desire to catch up to him, and locked. She scowled, quickly realizing that this was all a trap.

"Feel free to sit." Banner invited. "We'll be in here for a while." he started pulling up the saved PowerPoint of celebrities with gaps in their teeth or noticeable scars in their brows. Despite their imperfections these people were loved for something more than their looks. Cori needed to realize she could be loved in the same way.

Doctor Banner began his lecture on the illusion of flawless beauty and how imperfections actually enhanced attractiveness by making people unique. Cori was disappointingly unresponsive during his logical and strong argument. Bruce sighed in defeat some thirty minutes later when her sour expression and hellfire eyes refused to soften. "Still nothing?" he clarified before steeling his nerves and preparing himself.

_I hope you forgive me, Cori, _thought Bruce as he lashed out with controlled strength and struck her in the cheek. The girl, half perched on the edge of a table, easily collided with the ground. Bruce fearfully assumed he used too much force. He'd seen her head bounce off the tile and come back up to connect her wide-eyed stare to his calm, slightly hopeful one.

Her expression was a mix of _you hit me! _and _my god!_

She disjointedly drew herself up from the floor.

"Pales in comparison, doesn't it?" Bruce asked nonchalantly as possible, lightly wiggling his fingers at the lines beneath her left eye. The silent and stunned cupping of her bruised cheek told him that she agreed. "You'd much rather have those lines than that bruise, wouldn't you?"

"Yeah…" she finally admitted, slightly dazed. Cori blinked a few times, and Bruce thought that he'd seen her come back to herself in those small blinks. "Yeah. Thanks. I…I needed that."

"Not a problem. Doctors are supposed to help, you know."

"Thanks, Bruce."

"Come over here so I can fix you up." he motioned to the table in front of him. Bruce did nothing more than apply an ice pack, but he felt that was enough. Most of the healing was internal, and looked to have already happened. She held his hand as it pressed the ice pack to her cheek, after all. That was a good sign.

Suspicions about her ability to heal resurfaced as he watched the redness fade away. Part of it was owed to the constriction of blood vessels, but Banner knew extraordinary genetics at work when he saw them. "There." he wiped the dampness from her cheek, "All better and beautiful."

Cori didn't give him a chance to pull away. She roped her arms around his neck and held on. Bruce Banner was truly a rare and beautiful man.


	31. Blessings

We Need to Quit Meeting like This

* * *

**AN: **Thanks to Dark Moons and Whispered Words and Maymayliu for reviewing. Will be updating _Avengers vs. Aunt Flow _soon. Afterwards will come the official first chapter of _Iron and Alabaster_.

May stop (put on hold, maybe – looks like it's kind of dying anyways) this book soon in favor of giving my attention to Tony and Ellowyn in _Iron and Alabaster_.

A crackfic story may be coming up soon. A friend and I were talking yesterday and we got this wonderful idea of throwing two OCs into Avengers' Tower as Fury demands they undergo therapy for their lack of "team togetherness".

Hilarity ensues.

Enjoy this prompt! I was inspired to do this by a startling lack of mafia!Bruce personality fics out there. Don't you think he'd be a good mobster? I do.

* * *

Blessings

"She's bringing someone _home_?!" Tony double-checked, interrupting Pepper for the third time.

"Yes, Tony. Cori's bringing someone home." Pepper confirmed dryly but gently. His bulging eyes and disbelief had been comical five minutes ago. Not now. Tony seemed downright childish and even…_suspicious_ that Cori found someone to introduce to the tower! She was offended.

Stark finally fell silent, but only for a millisecond. "Why?"

"Because he's _nice_, Tony!" explained Pepper, surprised she had to do so. Wasn't Tony a man? Didn't other men generally understand the concept of people dating? Pepper didn't think the idea of Cori dating someone was that foreign. On the contrary, she was more than happy!

The girl could no longer be a closet cynic. When Pepper fished for Valentine's Day ideas that wouldn't bore Tony – and could keep the spice in their crazy life – sardonic prattling about "Single's Awareness Day" would be unacceptable!

They could even go on double dates!

If the age difference didn't make it weird, that was…

_Okay, no double dates_, Pepper quickly amended. Lack of double dates aside, she was still happy! Coriander had joined her ranks as a love-interested woman.

"Again," she could hear the skepticism and light panic in Tony's voice, "_why_?"

"He brought her flowers, Tony." Pepper informed, beginning to relive the early days of their relationships when Tony had no problem with wooing her. He still did, but he was less showy about it. Tony preferred to keep his affections subtle so he didn't have anyone interrupting or vying to share. "And he convinced her teachers to slip in a mixed CD while he ballroom danced!"

"Was he any good?" Tony inquired curiously, arms crossed at the chest.

"…n-not really, no. It's the thought that counts, though!"

"Cori's a _dancer_, Pep! Him being able to dance – or appreciating dancing – is huge!"

"Why would he do that if he didn't like dancing?" Pepper didn't like his tone. Or his tactic. Tony was purposefully trying to malign this poor young man! What a child; Tony never handled change well. He'd once forgotten that he gave her vacation for a week and didn't take her replacement too well.

In fact, Tony _up and left_ to have a short vacation. He spent his vacation finding and keeping her company.

"Because he's pulling out the stops!" accused Tony, "He's closing the deal!"

"Oh Tony," chastised Pepper angrily, "quit being a child!"

"He _is_, Pepper! I'm a guy, I would know!"

"From personal experience?" she tested. Tony let the barb sink in, barely feeling it.

"I'm _older_—"

"You don't act it most of the time. Like now." Pepper snorted, smiling.

"—and I know how to treat a woman. This…_schmuck _is just after the prize!"

"She'll be fine, Tony. Now go have blueberries, coffee, or _whatever _is going to make you congenial when this man comes. He'll be here in about an hour."

Tony pouted. Pepper clearly didn't see the danger. He supposed that, as a woman and a closet romantic who wanted more than a nine-to-five corporate gig, she didn't want to. Their relationship was kind of storybook and cliché, in that respect. Boss and secretary and whatnot.

But _still_! Someone would agree with him!

And he'd embark on that quest right after dealing with loveable and unhelpfully supportive-of-the-other-guy Ms. Potts.

"I need to go do _whatever_ to be nice, right?"

"Yes." Pepper nodded. "It's mandatory, actually."

"…can we have a quickie?"

"TONY!"

"You said we only had an hour!"

"THAT'S NOT WHAT I MEANT!" Pepper scowled, storming away. She had files to process. Files that would never be sorted or scanned into the database if Stark got ahold of her.

"Then what the hell does 'mandatory' mean to you, Pepper?!" Tony pretended to cry in a wounded manner as she slammed the door behind her.

Well…now that _that_ was over he could search for allies.

* * *

"We have an emergency, Bruce." Tony stormed into the lab.

Bruce knew it was serious when Tony didn't stop to put on goggles or shoo Dummy's waving greeting away. The scientist was in a fairly relaxed mood, though, so one joke wasn't harmless.

"Running out of coffee is not an emergency, Tony."

"That _is _an emergency, Bruce! Don't joke about that." grumbled the man. "But coffee's not the issue! It's _Cori_!"

Numerous possibilities ran through Bruce's head. Did she fight with Natasha again? Get food poisoning from the chicken alfredo she insisted eating so much of? Sprain her ankle rehearsing a routine? "JARVIS didn't alert me of anything." that soothed Bruce – if JARVIS didn't say anything then Tony must be exaggerating.

But, of course, Cori could be hurt outside of the tower. He drummed his fingers nervously on the table, waiting for Tony to just _spit it out already_.

"She's bringing a guy over. _A guy_!"

Bruce could already see where this was headed. He'd be lying if he said he wasn't a bit jealous. She would go for someone in her age range, wouldn't she? If only he hadn't been so…so _tongue-tied _she might've gone out with _him_!

But that was the wishful thinking of an old man, wasn't it?

"How do you know he's not a dance partner?" Bruce liked logic. Logic kept him calm. Logic kept him from spiraling into one of _those_ moods. _Those _moods are what inspired him to build the bomb that – thankfully – didn't work beneath his school.

"This guy's been bringing her flowers and-and schmoozing his way into her dance classes, Bruce! He means business!"

"Cori is allowed to have her own love life, you know. She's twenty-six."

"Bruce," Tony put his arm on his shoulder, "do you _really _want her to go out with a twenty-something?" Tony knew he didn't. Tony had known about his secret for a while. Bruce just made it a point of pride to handle his own affairs. And he would…when he found the right moment.

Relationships were like science – very delicate. The first miscalculation of emotions could cause an explosion massive enough to rival Hiroshima! It was just worse because it was emotional and personal.

"There are good people out there, Tony." Bruce tried to argue. It was altruistic to do so of the man who made Cori happy. But, at the same time, it left a bad taste in his mouth. Maybe because he was sour that it wasn't him.

Tony gave him another long, piercing look. "I'd bet you my salary that he isn't one of them." said the man confidently.

That was a big bet, Bruce knew. Tony liked to play, but he didn't gamble. Not in such a business-like manner. Not when it was someone like Cori on the line. "He's not the good guy I'd like to see her with, anyways." murmured Tony softly, as if JARVIS were recording them like a spy.

Bruce blushed.

Tony straightened out the lapels of his suit like that compliment hadn't occurred. Like he hadn't been playing favorites with the love life of his 'not child'. "So, knowing that, are you just going to sit there and take it? Are you going to just let him move in?"

"Why are you baiting me into the offensive position?" Bruce questioned, pushing his glasses up on his nose.

Tony smiled brightly, like a child. "Because I know it works."

"This has nothing to do with the tabloids, right? The media would just have a _field day_ if Tony Stark got ahold of some kid, right?"

"…that too."

No one would blame him, he realized. The small window created by rational, genetic excuse taunted him. It was almost as valuable as the 'get out of jail free card' in Monopoly.

"So what? You want me to Hulk out and scare this unassuming…_kid_?" Bruce took off his glasses to rub the bridge of his nose. Living with Tony was wonderful, far better than anything he'd ever experienced in his time on the run. It was also one of the biggest exploits of The Other Guy. But, truth be told, The Other Guy _liked _Tony creating excuses for him to come out. He also liked one-upping Thor at helping Pepper remodel rooms and carrying large replacement deliveries Thor usually caused.

"No, no!" Tony quickly shot him down. "Not Hulk out. There are other ways to intimidate people, Banner, and we're going with a classic!"

Bruce had no time to delve any further; Tony dragged him excitedly out of the lab by his arm.

* * *

Jude Stesson squeezed Cori's hand lightly, grinning as she escorted him to an elevator. He was quite impressed with the massive building and its posh – nearly futuristic – decorations. His blonde-brown curls were unruly and plentiful enough to defy hair gel. The twenty-eight-year-old trimmed it as nicely as possible, and tried to brush it, but found the half-curls still consuming his pale peach face. A hint of eyebrows could be seen, but the majority of them were eaten by the fringe of untamed hair.

"So why are we meeting this guy at his office?"

"Tony's busy. He said he had meetings. There's a small break in-between, though."

"So how do you know Tony Stark, anyways?"

"He's technically one of my guardians. I think my parents see him as some sort of godfather." joked Cori. They stopped before a set of nicely polished wooden doors. "Good luck!" Cori kissed the corner of his mouth.

"Thanks, babe."

"Call me when you're done. I'll come get you." offered Cori. Pepper was on her lunch break. She was sure the redhead would like some company. That, and because Tony had to be a "man" about this new turn of events, Cori wasn't invited to sit in as Jude met him.

Jude gave her a nod, hazel eyes sparkling. He flashed a thumbs up before slipping inside. Cori swore the scent of smoke followed her down the hall, but she thought nothing of it. Even the great Tony Stark liked to smoke once in a while.

Stesson noted two things when he entered: semi-darkness and a thin haze of smoke. He wasn't too put off by the smoke. Most of the bars he played guitar in were decently coated with it. The high-back leather chair with doughy arms and a wide make looked far nicer than the tiny seat he was appointed. None the less, not one to make a fuss, he took the stiff chair.

"So…I hear you want to date Ms. Henson. Is that correct?" a Jersey-like voice inquired, rough and crisp and all business.

Jude blinked. That didn't sound like the Tony Stark he'd heard on TV.

"Y-Yes?"

"Why the question?" a red dot preceded another plume of smoke. The previous layers thinned, dissipating into nothing as they gave their fragrance to the air. Jude caught a glimpse of a relatively curly-haired man with analytical, bright brown eyes. Unlike Tony Stark, he had no noticeable mustache or goatee.

"It-it's not a question." assured Jude. This guy gave him the creeps. The setting, in general, gave him the creeps. Where was Tony Stark? Who was this guy?

He immediately felt like he was in the wrong room. Low-lit lamps framing either end of the large desk provided dull warmth for the room. It was nowhere near the thin, bright lights he'd seen decorating the hallways and elevator. High-end wooden furniture made of glossy, imported wood matched his mental image of something Stark would own, but the room didn't. Jude felt trapped in some old-style, creepy English study when he accounted for the startlingly quiet space, foreign rug covering the wooden floor, and sentinel-like bookshelves that nearly touched the ceiling.

All that was missing was a fireplace.

The man's eyes danced like catching flames, though.

"Then don't make it sound like it." advised the man, exhaling smoke near his vicinity. "You either _want_ to date Ms. Henson, or you don't."

"I do." swallowed Jude. "U-Um…not to be rude, but, uh, where's Mr. Stark? She said I was meeting with Mr. Stark."

"Mr. Stark has very important business." the cigarette wiggled between his lips before he pinched it in his fingers. The man leaned back, exhaling. "Matters that are not important…matters such as yourself…fall to me to handle."

"Who are you?"

"My name is not important. What _is _important is the knowledge that you have approximately nineteen bones in the five fingers on each of your hands. I can break all nineteen of those bones _very slowly_ if you so much as make Ms. Henson frown, understand?"

"Sure."

"'Sure' sounds like a thing of uncertainty. 'Yes' and 'no' are more definite. Do you understand? Yes or no?"

"Y-Yes."

"Good man." he put out the cigarette, finally allowing the smoky atmosphere to clear. Jude watched the suited man lean forward as he folded his hands on the desk's surface. "So, tell me, what makes you worthy of dating Cori?"

"I—I make her smile." informed Jude.

"So do kittens." responded the man dryly, clearly unimpressed. "Give me something more."

"I play her songs on my guitar. She's pretty into it."

Cori did like creative people, Bruce knew. Whether the creativity came from the tongue or the hands, it didn't matter. She just looked for people with _that_ spark of passion concerning the pursuit of intellectual and engaging activities. It was a spark she said _he _had in all his world-wise, technically-fugitive ways.

"These are all superfluous things. Worthiness comes from proving yourself. You prove yourself through situations. Do you know how to make her laugh? To make her smile?"

"You kinda asked me that earlier." murmured Jude in a small voice.

"Making her smile and _knowing how_ are two different things. Your approach will depend on the day and what it is that's soured her mood."

"O-okay."

"You can only be worthy if you know her. Do you know her?"

"I'm pretty sure."

"What's her favorite color?"

"Green. She likes it because it matches her eyes."

_AND purple, _Bruce wanted to add. Something warm flooded him as his heart clenched in a prideful manner. Cori liked _his _colors.

Bruce hummed, hoping the man felt like he'd gotten that one incorrect. He had, technically, because the response was only half-right.

"What's her favorite food?"

"Chicken alfredo." answered Jude proudly.

"Wrong." Bruce didn't hesitate to strike. "She likes Chicken Alfredo with a roll and extra alfredo sauce."

"You _just_ said she eats Chicken Alfredo. I got it right!" argued Jude lightly.

Bruce smirked. "Getting something partially right is not totally correct. For example, let's say I let you walk out of here, which I will. But if something _unfortunate _where to happen to you after you left, and the police came looking for me, concerned with my involvement, I would say that I let you leave. Is it partially right? Yes. Is it totally correct? No."

Banner struggled to hold in a smirk as sweat began to bloom on Jude. The Other Guy was quite happy about this exchange, also. He was getting to prove his dominance and help Tony protect his territory.

"A-are you threatening me?"

Bruce lit another cigarette, reclining. "Do you see it as a threat? I didn't see it as a threat. Do you want me to threaten you? I could."

"If it wasn't a threat, then what was it?!" Jude's voice cracked slightly in indignation.

"A real-world hypothetical. One you should consider _very _real." replied Bruce nonchalantly.

"Wh-where's Mr. Stark, again?"

"Out." Bruce reminded curtly. "And it looks like you're on your way, too. What kind of man are you if you turn to jelly during a _harmless _conversation?" teased the doctor.

"It's not harmless on _my_ end!"

"You must be paranoid, then." deduced Bruce. "If so, you should be medicated. And if you _do _need medication and you aren't on it, and you hurt Cori, you will receive _more _medication. Am I clear?"

"Yes." stuttered Jude.

"Moving on." Bruce sighed as he shuffled through his mental list, "What's her blood type?"

"I-I don't know!"

"You should know this, Jelly." Bruce chastised. "What if she's hurt while in your company? What are you going to tell the paramedics? What if _your _ignorance is why she dies?"

"Who talks about blood types on dates?! And my name's not Jelly, it's Jude!"

"Jelly is more fitting." stated Bruce, unmoved by his firming spine and growing rage. "And if you don't talk about personal, important things on your dates, then what do you do?"

Jude knew he should respect this guy. He knew Cori bringing him to meet Tony Stark was important. But this guy wasn't Tony Stark. The first degree and downright _creepy _and _judgmental_ stare made him shiver.

"It's none of your business!" Jude stood up with a huff, "And I don't think you'll have to worry about Cori and I going on anymore dates! I'm out!"

"It's B positive." called Bruce helpfully as Jude stormed out like an angry child. Tony giggled from behind the purposefully large armchair. He stood to his full height, planting his elbow atop the material.

"Nice, Bruce."

"Thank you, Tony." Bruce finished the cigarette.

"You smoke that like a natural!" praised Tony, highly amused.

"Fell into cigarettes once or twice. Chemicals and toxins aside, it's a good stress reliever."

The wooden doors were thrown open with a show. Cori's furious stomping echoed in the room. Tony's dark drinking room met her eyes. Wanting to see who was responsible for Jude uttering something nonsensical – "Fingers and blood and jelly! Jelly! No way, man! I didn't sign up for this!" – as he _dumped _her, she clapped. Lights were triggered, showering the room in a gentle, humming luminance.

Bruce suddenly felt very stupid for sitting so casually in the giant chair. Tony grinning from atop it like a Cheshire cat didn't help. The acrid taste of the cigarette hanging from his lips felt very foreign and unappealing. Wordlessly, Bruce snuffed it in the nearby ash tray. With the darkness left his bold and scary demeanor.

Now he was just quiet, unassuming Bruce. The Bruce that was glad to see her single, but furious. More importantly, single.

"What. did. you. do?" Cori ground out in a nasty hiss. She looked completely past Bruce, like he didn't exist, and went immediately for Tony. Her misconception held the viciousness of an attack dog going for the throat.

"Oh, you know," Tony shrugged nonchalantly, "talked man-to-man."

"Certified man test." promised Bruce quietly. "It's a real science."

Okay, maybe it wasn't, but men were often good judges of other males. Men knew what their fellow men were after. Men knew the tips, tricks, and duration of the 'honeymoon' phase used to bed later-bragged-about conquests.

"Jude just canceled our lunch date _and _dumped me!" Cori put her hands on her hips, frowning deeply. "That's, like, two slaps in the face! The _least _he could've done was 'I need time to think this relationship over', but did he do that?! No!"

"Bad material, as predicted by the certified man test." Tony regretted to inform. Cori scowled. "We'll take you out to lunch, though. Pepper's been wanting a double-date."

"Pepper will be pretty upset to hear you're taking Bruce." joked Cori. He'd said _we'll_, after all, and the only other people in the room were him and Bruce. Bruce's cheeks flushed with nearly a quarter of his blood, or so it felt. Tony was somewhat amused.

"_I _am taking Pepper, and _Bruce _is taking you."

"I-if that's okay, that is." Bruce was quick to soften the friendly trap. He didn't want to make her join him if she didn't want to. She probably wouldn't want to after learning _he_ scared Jude, not Tony.

But, technically, Tony talked him into doing it. Brothers of science did not throw their brothers under the bus, though.

Bruce and Cori began walking towards the open doors, Tony following behind. Something excited the genius billionaire, though, and he crowed excitedly for them to stop. Tony raced to the wooden desk, jumped up, and slid hastily across its surface until he was sloppily deposited in the padded chair. He quickly fixed his posture, formed his fingertips into a triangle, and peered at the two over them. In the most serious voice he could muster – which wouldn't be delivered straight-faced enough nor low enough because of the smile cramping his cheek and the amusement tightening his vocal chords – Tony said, "You have my blessings on this, the day of our double-date."

They exploded into laughter that masked Pepper's contained-but-hurried jog to the antiquated room furnished by oil paintings and pedestal-mounted busts. "What's wrong?! I saw Jude leave! Tony, what did you do?!"

"Don't worry about it, Pepper." Cori patted her back. "Just get ready for lunch. Bruce and I are joining you, apparently."

"Oh Bruce, did you finally do it?! Congratulations! Is _that_ why you were so worked up this morning, Tony?! You're so sweet!" Pepper crossed the room to pinch her boss' cheeks – like she knew he hated – as she made kissy sounds at him.

"Wait, what?" Cori was so confused. Horribly confused. She looked to Bruce, who was silent and severely scarlet. Tony's whiny insistencies on getting real kisses for those kissing noises fell on deaf ears.

"You have my blessings!" smiled Pepper, her boss still wrapped in her arms.


	32. Odd Bedfellows

We Need to Quit Meeting like This

* * *

**AN: **Sorry for my long absence. I've been hashing out some things. Mostly finishing my semester of college and the pertinent finals. Then a lot of job searching which led me to a summer student position in the office of a paper mill (which keeps getting delayed due to management and things like that).

I also had an orthopedic appointment to figure out how much of a danger or hindrance my Cerebral Palsy will be to me as I age. Luckily, nothing serious. I just have to do daily yoga to keep from being reassigned into orthotic casts.

Now, some personal accomplishments that you may enjoy as my readers:

I'll soon be putting my original fiction on FictionPress. The first installment of the dystopian thriller trilogy _The Shifter Virus_ is up and running on FictionPress as of today. **Please, if you love my writing here, see what I'm capable of when left to my own devices.**

It would mean a lot to me if that was looked at. When I don't update here, I don't disappear because I've lost love for these stories or purposefully put it off because people are waiting on me. I finish my own personal creations during that time and plot them out just to rearrange my mind and take a break from fiction. Those breaks and that planning helps me come back here when I've felt like I've done too much at one time.

So, again, if you could please look at that I would really appreciate it.

Look for me on FictionPress: **Pandiichan**

If you like Sabaku no Gaara from _Naruto_ then please head over to my DeviantArt account, **Pandiininja**, for that. I also have some _Hetalia: Axis Powers_ up (both are reader insert series).

If anyone is curious about _Iron and Alabaster, _yes, I'm going to start it. I've just had trouble getting that one off the ground because I don't have the _Iron Man 2_ movie to get an idea of the events. It's slowly coming to life. Just have to organize it and set the stage. Don't give up on it!

Also, I haven't forgotten about _Avengers vs. Aunt Flow. _That is so still happening. Hulk needs to panic about pads and tampons.

But, getting back to THIS drabble booklet,

Thanks to Miko Hayashi and Maymayliu for reviewing the last chapter!

This is some 'I've returned so I have to warm up' smuff (new term for smut-fluff) that will prepare me for the next drabble. The next drabble will have rightfully earned the M rating, and will be the most provocative – if not sensitive or controversial – drabble in the booklet.

You have been warned. I'll warn you once more by letting the title speak for itself:

Talk Dirty to Me

Miko dear, I know you know what it's about so I'll ask you nicely to stay quiet until it's out :D. Don't want you to ruin the surprise, ne?

I don't know why, but I _really_ like the language I used for this one. "Blown Away" by Carrie Underwood makes good mood music, I guess.

Enjoy!

* * *

Odd Bedfellows

Staying up late was nothing new for Bruce Banner. But _where _he decided to stay up late was. The genius was currently in the kitchen brewing an emergency cup of super-potent chamomile tea. Bruce's brown eyes floated down to the tea bag as he dunked it like a suspended donut. Droplets of water leapt out of the gentle ripples, a few landing on the knuckles and skin of his right hand.

Bruce flinched.

He wasn't supposed to get wet _inside_, dammit! Rain continued to pour outside. The sheets of fallen water were so constant and heavy that Bruce swore he heard menacing growling instead of the gentle drumming his aunt used to describe it as. _You're in your forties! Stop this!_ he demanded fruitlessly of himself, shuddering when lightning coated the impressive floor-to-ceiling windows of Stark Tower like nature's finishing gloss.

Banner scowled and harrumphed at himself, sealing his lips around the deep rim of a hot cup to stop the matured whimpers that once started as childhood squeals. He felt the herbs and spices of the sachet bleed out into the liquid as his teeth slashed through the feeble paper bag. _Better a bite than a gulp_, Bruce found himself thinking.

It was perfectly possible for him to inhale the bag instead of the tea while in a state such as this.

Dr. Banner collected the wounded tea bag and dropped it in the trashcan. He let the wet collision and slight whisper of crinkled plastic drown out the noise, and relished it. The kitchen was, by far, the safest place to wait out the storm. There was no physical danger to him – not him, not the man who could turn in the Hulk! – while inside of Stark Tower, but that didn't matter.

The _noise_ did. Thunder was just noise, but he knew it was coming. That foreknowledge and the suspense of arrival was, perhaps, the reason he hated storms. He knew it wouldn't stop until the lightning bolts ceased tap dancing on the land.

What was worse, he knew it was coming and that he couldn't stop it. That was the worst kind of fear to have, in his opinion, because it wasn't easily conquerable. His degrees and extensive knowledge couldn't send the storm running for fear of inferiority or boredom.

No, it would stay until it was done.

But at least nothing in the kitchen trembled with the vibrations. Nothing except him, of course.

Bruce pulled out a chair, as calmly as possible, and sat with his back to the massive windows. Everyone else in the house _enjoyed _Mother Nature's soggy tune, much to his displeasure. The hum of rain as it crashed to the concrete like porcelain marbles or softened clay made a soothing lullaby.

To everyone but him.

He considered waking Thor up and muscling him into commanding the storm, but refrained. Tony abused any known embarrassing information for weeks on end. Especially with him, as he liked to see The Other Guy. Aside from that, Thor wasn't the quietest person about personal favors like his.

His ultimate reason for suffering in shame was the fact that he was in his mid-forties. The scientist in Bruce, the logical piece, was adamant about him conquering his fear. But he wasn't a scientist right now. He was an echo of his toddler self—panicked and wracking his brain for any spot capable of fitting him, no matter the shape.

An odd shuffle and clatter caught his attention. The spell brought on by the acknowledgement of his childhood self was broken. Cori stood there, wide eyes trained on the illuminating flash like it was the incoming headlights of a speeding vehicle. Bags of chips and cans of coke were hugged to her chest.

"What are you doing?"

"Stocking up, Bruce." she replied quickly, ducking back into the fridge. Her long pale arms were quickly crammed with containers of leftovers and small snacks like string cheese. "I can't sleep in this weather!" blurted out Cori rather frantically.

"But what are you doing?"

"Having a midnight party in my room." replied his raven-haired housemate with light sarcasm. Her hair was sloppily bundled and twisted at the back of her neck. The elastic failed to catch on her natural waves; it was steadily slipping out to unveil the dark, rich tresses Bruce had always imagined touching.

Imagined being around him in the dawn of a new morning. Imagined tickling across the column of his throat and cheeks as she loyally peppered him with a trail of kisses that ended at his own mouth.

"What's the maximum capacity?" Bruce readjusted his glasses, readily prepared to leave his tea behind.

She was much better than chamomile.

Cori paused at the fridge, letting the door fall shut as it escaped her slack fingers. One onyx brow rose. Her ivory cheeks gradually split in a bright and amused smile. "Oh my god…" she began to laugh, "you're afraid of storms! You! You, _Bruce Banner_!"

He didn't know whether she was laughing at him or crying out in relief because she'd found someone to commiserate with. Bruce pretended it was the last one. A flash flood of confidence and older person mannerisms gushed out as he glared half-heartedly at her and crossed his arms.

Cori's laughter wilted like a flower, her lips curling up together in a small smile that reminded Bruce of a promising pink rose bud not quite ready to blossom. "Two, I think. Just two."

Bruce shivered as he looked at the bottled lightning in her green eyes. Her voice dropped and faded in and out like the occasional mumble of wind that threw the rain sideways against the tower windows. He felt like a targeted but perfect conductor for the searing burn of her twenty-something desires. His neck hairs stood on end, and it wasn't because of the storm.

She'd announced herself like an anvil cloud announced a storm. Her unspoken offer was quickly diminishing like the Mammatus clouds dropping rain over Manhattan. Bruce could see her retreating from boldness and lust like the clouds would do from Manhattan in a few hours.

He'd wanted nothing more than her for a long time. A _long _time. But he was afraid.

What if he changed? What if he…what if he _broke _her? What if she was disowned by her family because of his age? What if reporters found out and started accusing her of being some sort of an escort on the lookout for a sugar daddy?

Protecting her from that was more important than having her. Barely.

Bruce was ready to feel the bite of her refreshingly cool kiss as it doused his impatient, long-denied lust. He wanted her hands to smooth over him and wash away the old feelings, the old Bruce, until the true man underneath was revealed.

Her lashes touched down like cloud-to-ground lightning. When they lifted Bruce felt like he'd been struck and set ablaze. There was no come hither look. No words. Just a beautifully blinding pain that preceded his last coherent thought before he charged at her like he was rushing for shelter.

Cans of coke bounced off the floor, cushioned by bags of chips as he swept her up in a mighty gust of passion and draped her over his shoulder. Bruce was now able to distinguish the hushed drumming Aunt Drake taught him to identify. It silenced the world, the tower, while resonating through his veins and muscles like vague recollections of heinously magical and possessive voodoo chants.

They overflowed into his room, Bruce spilling onto his bed beneath her. He was a victim waterlogged by her magnificent presence. Bruce's palms cupped her shoulders, long fingers spread evenly across her back. She kissed him, crashing down to meet his clean-shaven face like an unexpected wave dominating an unprepared and defenseless shore. He gasped deeply, desperately, and happily as her electrifying tongue found his moist muscle and sent shockwaves tearing through him.

_This just might kill me…like real lightning_, Bruce listened to himself struggle for air as she breathed into his mouth. He was a prisoner of the hot fire her contact caused. Cori greedily absorbed his oxygen, feeding off of him as her kindled sexuality crackled intensely and iridescently.

Something in Bruce – the animal, the man – lurched forward to challenge her power and dangerous allure. He rolled the young woman on her back. Bruce loomed over Cori like a gathering of clouds, the look in his eyes, alone, enough to turn the scant distance and atmosphere between them agonizingly, unfairly stuffy. Beads of sweat formed at Cori's hairline before dropping down to coast along her cheekbones. His touch, affectionate acid rain, dissolved her clothes to reveal the bare structure underneath.

Cori did her best to keep any moans quiet. Bruce refused to have it that way. Originally, she was going to stay up and do something to block out the clamorous storm. He still needed his sense of comfort from the pressing storm.

She was it, noises included.

Cori inhaled sharply as his love bites pelted her fiery skin like icy needles. Bruce grunted from the back of his throat, entirely pleased and drowning in her. They raged, blind to time, until every drop their affection was spent.

* * *

Bruce lay awake, still curled around Cori. He stared at the ceiling as shafts of golden light crept across the room. She shifted her head slightly, causing it to fall in the crook of his neck. Her left arm tightened around his right shoulder as her back arched absently into the curve of his torso.

The good doctor was stupefied by his surprisingly pleasant and deep sleep. He'd yet to dig himself out of the wondrous position he'd woken up to. Honestly, he didn't want to. _She should sleep with me every night if this is how well it works, _Bruce's lips curled up in a smile.

As if she knew what he was thinking, Cori inhaled sleepily and cracked one eye open. She smiled at him, hair perfectly disheveled and messily curled. "Looks like we survived the night." she giggled.

"It does." Bruce hummed, burying his mouth into her right shoulder as he began a trail of soft, apologetic kisses over several prominent love bites.

"Hey Banner, I found your old cup of tea! So where did you end up hid-OH! WOAH! C'mon, man! Put a tie or sock or _something _on the door!" Tony covered his eyes and reached blindly for the door he'd just burst through.

"It's your fault for not knocking." admonished Bruce sensibly as the sheets fell cleverly to his hips while he reached over for his glasses. Cori grinned, propped herself up on her elbows, and hugged the sheets to her.

"I thought—I thought you were sleeping! You hate storms! I was going to make you get out of bed!" Tony explained, eyes still covered as he successfully found and put himself on the other side of the door. Only his head remained in the partially open space.

"I don't think I'm ready to get out of our bed yet. It's quite comfy."

Tony shut the door, not wanting to hear anymore.

"Our bed?" Cori looked at him, hair dripping around and down her neck.

"Our bed." Bruce confirmed. "We're bedfellows from now own."

"It's about damn time, Banner!" Cori smirked, diving into him once again.


	33. Hush

We Need to Quit Meeting like This

* * *

**AN:** Thanks to Red Serge, Miko Hayashi, and Lollypops101 for reviewing the last chapter. I know I said "Talk Dirty to Me" was next, but this needed to come first. I feel like my family's been treating me like utter SHIT no matter what I do or what I say, so this is my version of healing and venting.

But, rest assured, "Talk Dirty to Me" will still be posted. It's in the works.

Be warned that my update schedule/"Talk Dirty to Me" might be delayed because I'm starting my new job next Monday.

Also, I'm finally doing Maymayliu's prompt where Cori forgets who Bruce is and has to remember him once more. But, of course, I'm doing it Pandiichan style :D.

"Forget Me Not" (one shot form) will be coming out soon because…gosh! Just because the idea excites me so! Holy geez! I mean, really, I can't wait! I'm starting on it right after I look this over.

It may or may not get turned into a story, depending on how I feel. I really do need to show Tony and Clint some more love. And I'm ready to write secretly smart, accidentally-can't-help-it-I'm-an-Asgardian destructive Thor. Loki too, of course.

Can't forget about Lyra.

In any case…enjoy some angsty fluff!

* * *

Hush

Cori frowned, looking down at the black watch on her pale wrist. She half-heartedly fingered the grooves and buttons as her pulse rate lowered slightly. Bruce had given her one of his watches before she left. Coriander didn't really understand why, but assumed it was something more sentimental than scientific. A 'think of me while you're on your family camping trip' gesture.

Well…it was working.

She was thinking of nothing but Bruce.

Nothing but Bruce and how she wanted to be back in New York.

The family trip wasn't as dreamy and wonderful as she'd imagined.

If anything, it was the exact opposite.

They'd been at the string of wooden cabins for about three days and she was ready to beat the shit out of all of them. Or the older ones, at least. _I just need to have a good tantrum_, Cori huffed to herself. She could literally _feel _the anger pooling beneath her skin. It contracted her muscles with a twitchy desperation that _demanded_ she vent.

But she couldn't.

The dark-haired woman felt like there were no opportunities. Or that those opportunities were being squashed as soon as she found them. Any unconscious slip of the tongue – a growl, a snappy comment, a huff, a frown – was regarded as being 'overly dramatic' and met with equally infuriating and unnecessary commentary.

She felt like the forces of the world were working against her. Or that Murphy's Law had decided to stalk her for the entirety of the trip. Or – even worse – that people only actually _heard_ her when the surge of rage hit too hard to stifle.

All of it was simply too aggravating. The thing that hurt Cori most was the quickness in which they wrote off her mood. Her family, _her own family_ – who was supposed to love and support her and _understand_ – readily made up reasons for her attitude instead of just _asking_ her what the problem was.

She wanted to go back to New York. She wanted to run away and hide like a child. Coriander felt surrounded by inescapable bullies. Grade school bullies were harder to dodge; they only operated within a set time frame. Escaping family – especially when confined and divvied up between numerically-ordered log cabins – was impossible.

Cori sat, emotionally drained and frustrated, on the single bed in the upper left corner. Her green eyes stung with tears as she gazed across the way to another single bed.

_Bruce…_

She squeezed her eyes shut adamantly, not wanting to cry any more than she already had over just…just _everything_. Her nails and fingers tightened desperately over the tiny cell phone. Coriander slammed it to her head, hoping she could beat out her bad mood, the drama, or _whatever_ was making her feel so worthless and emotional.

Her family collectively arrived at the same conclusion for the discourse: her. So it must be true. There was no one on her side. With no defense against their harsh comments, scoffs, or disapproving nods, she felt the full force of their disappointment. That, above all, made her feel that everything was her fault.

She quit trying to believe or justify that her nephews and nieces had lied about her actions in a moment of weakness when they were unhappy. It was always, "Cori's being mean!" and that was the end of it.

Maybe it was because she was the older one. Maybe it was because kids were allegedly "brutally honest" and she, an adult, couldn't possibly be right.

_For the love of god_, she slammed the phone against her forehead again, _please help me. I'm so angry. I'm SO ANGRY. I don't know what to do. It can't be all my fault…can it? Am I really that bad of a person?_

She continued to beat the phone against her red, bruising forehead, unaware that her thoughts were being transferred through the device and to the person she was thinking about.

* * *

At first, Bruce jumped when the computer started spitting text. He'd forgotten Cori could put her thoughts into a word document. The scientist had half expected her to call, but assumed she didn't have a decent signal. His secret levity wilted when he realized the personal nature and tone of the document.

It looked like Cori hadn't even meant to send it. His heart fluttered, shivering from the icy fear coursing through his veins. Her message was anything but the sad doting and longing he wished to see waiting in his inbox.

**For the love of god…please help me. I'm angry. I'm SO ANGRY. It can't be all my fault…can it? Am I really that bad of a person?**

**Why the hell did they invite me down here if all they were going to do is bitch? Yeah, no, I just left Manhattan to squabble. No. They need to FUCKING LISTEN TO ME like the adult I AM.**

**Just because I'm the youngest doesn't mean you fucking WRITE ME OFF or act like I'm a JOKE. I must be though, because Brie's kids get more pull than I do! How the hell do you believe a CHILD over an adult?!**

**Whatever. I'm done.**

**Fuck them. Fuck them ALL. If they don't want me around, fine. I'm leaving.**

**Fuck them. I don't care. I don't want to come back. Not if I have to come back to them.**

**I'm GONE.**

Bruce's stomach dropped like a rock. This was bad.

"Gone"?

Gone _how_? There were so many ways to go. Was it a suicidal "gone" or just a pissed "gone"? It sounded like the latter, but he didn't want to take his chances.

He didn't want to wait and find out if he was wrong. Bruce had never contacted Cori's parents. Hell, he hadn't even told Cori that he liked her yet. _Time to take the plunge_, Bruce exhaled the air from his tight chest. Thankfully, Tony had all of her parents' contact information.

The fact that it took a half hour to reach either one was very alarming. When her mother said Cori and her foul mood weren't invited to the float down the main river, Bruce went into overdrive.

That was wrong. That was so wrong. They were leaving her alone in what could be her darkest hour.

_FIND CORI!_

_Yes, yes we are. We're going right now._

_HULK PROUD OF BANNER._

_Why?_

_BANNER USUALLY HESITATE. WOULD BE SCARED OF CORI'S PARENTS. OF MEETING CORI'S FAMILY._

_We may not even cross paths. I'm hoping I'll find her before any true pandemonium occurs. If not, they'll look highly upon me for returning their daughter. Or so I hope. Besides…this isn't ABOUT her family._

_HMMM…BANNER RIGHT._

_Let's go find Cori._

_GOOD FOR BANNER. HULK KNOW BANNER NOT LIKE THAT CORI LEFT._

_Can we just focus on finding her, please?_

_NO TALK. FOLLOW HULK'S FEELING._

* * *

Angry thoughts seared a path through Cori's mind. She wished she was as strong as Bruce. Strong enough to break the pen in her hand. Then some of her rage might abate. It stood strong and firm against her hand, digging deep – past the paper and into the wooden table.

Bitterness overflowed like ink from the pen as she dragged it down. She wondered if it would bleed through the paper and stain the wood. Childishly, she hoped it did. It would make her goodbye more permanent and maybe _then_ someone would take her seriously.

Despite everything that's on her mind, she only managed to fit: _Gone for a walk. Won't come back until I'm fine. Have food, phone, and water. Bye._ on the paper.

She really, really, _really_ wanted to squeeze _FUCK YOU!_ somewhere on the paper, but it didn't happen. It was as if her hand knew the honest feeling buried deep beneath the uncorked negativity she'd bottled up for some time.

Honest feelings or not, she was having a moment. A highly delayed moment exacerbated by Brie sneering, "Yeah, go on _little Honey_."

Everyone hated Honey's attitude, and everyone knew that. She was occasionally compared to Honey. Occasionally told that she was a mini-replica of Honey. Coriander tried to take those with a grain of salt, and stewed in her room until the feelings dissipated.

It couldn't be done this time, though. For whatever reason, it couldn't. Coriander imagined it was because – somewhere inside of her – she was tired of backing down and resorting to silence instead of defending herself. Even if it inflamed the issue and pissed people off, she'd be sticking up for herself.

_Finally_.

Cori checked her bag before storming out of the cabin. She took off blindly, running at full speed. Her scissor-like dancer's legs flung up bits of soil and tore through short grass as she bolted into the comforting twiggy arms of thickly leaved trees. The youngest Avenger stumbled through the angry haze blanketing her own mind as a sharp pain echoed deep from her lungs.

How long had she been running? What direction had she taken?

It didn't matter. She really could care less. Her furious green eyes landed on a tree. Coriander lashed out, flinging all the obscenities and questions she couldn't vocalize to her family. Cori swung at the tree like she was knocking out Brie's teeth.

Over and over.

She came back to herself for the second time. Sounds off nature – birds twittering, the breeze ruffling leaves, croaks of grass-cloaked bugs – wrapped around her like a pleasant, free silencer.

No family problems out here. Just nature.

Cori vaguely wondered if this – the sky, the light perfume of undisturbed earth – was why Hulk always ran into wooded areas during a non-battle-related breakout.

If it was, she could see why.

Stinging pain and the faint scent of copper reached her nose. She looked down at the pain's source, wincing soon after. She'd bludgeoned her left hand into an almost unrecognizable state. Her pale flesh was a quilt of blue, black, and yellow. Blood pooled and dripped trails in a fashion that reminded her of an unwoven yarn ball.

Most of her knuckles were swollen and horribly gnarled.

The painful consequence of her rage hit full-force soon after. Cori screamed, but was too hoarse for it to echo properly.

It burned. Oh fuck it burned!

_Is this what Bruce feels when he says he's a walking, exposed nerve_? Cori wondered. She felt hypersensitive after looking at her grotesque injury. Every little motion and sensation seemed to result in _extreme_ pain.

And, unfortunately, it wasn't a phantom pain.

She hugged the bad hand to her chest, turned on heel, and walked in the opposite direction. Cori walked for what felt like twenty minutes until she recalled bringing her phone. _The pain must've made me forget about it. Or maybe the obviousness of my stupidity did…_

The youngest Henson daughter rummaged through snack bars, trail mix, bagged chips, and water until she found her phone—

—in a puddle of water owed to a crooked cap. It was on just enough to keep the water in the bottle, but not enough to stop the drip. Cori betted it had come undone while she fled unthinkingly across the uneven ground. The little side buttons were soaked. Her touch screen was slick.

She didn't dare try to power it on or connect with it. With her luck, it would spark and catch her bag on fire. Then she'd either die of electrocution or light some of the trees on fire and meet her death in a smoky, fiery maze.

Undeterred, even more determine to find help and her sense of direction, Cori pressed on.

She wished Bruce was by her side. Aside from the comfort of his natural musk or the way his soft tone soothed her, she could really use some of the necessary skills he'd perfected. Bruce would probably know how to tell the time and direction by the sun. He was a whiz! How could he not?!

The sun lowered, fleeing a changing sky. Blue faded into a gentle purple. Cori watched eager, early bird stars materialize in the open sky with a frown. Her aching feet demanded a small break. A few sparse strokes and deep rubs with her good hand and she'd get up, she told herself.

But _boy _did it feel good.

Probably as good and healing as the hate-inspired run. While she wished she could do the _hand_ thing and _getting lost_ part over, all in all Cori felt like she'd come clean. Like the pain had eradicated whatever lay inside of her.

"_GRRRRR!_"

"_AWOOOOO!_"

"_A-WOOOO!_"

"_WOOOO_!"

"…_OOOO!_"

_Oh shit…_

Cori felt frozen to the spot, unable to look away from the glinting eyes of an emerging wolf. Wolves?! Were they really supposed to be out here?! She'd heard of bears loitering around campsites, but wolves?!

But, then again…she wasn't _near_ the campsite. She hadn't seen it in quite some time.

What to do? What to do? Did she lay down and play possum or were the wolves the ones who feared things bigger than themselves? Or was that bears?

She was helplessly confused and frightened. Cori absently scrambled back, twinges of protest from her wounded hand skimming grass going ignored. Her back smacked against the rough bark of a tree. A hopeful half-breath escaped her.

She could climb the tree and stay up there until the morning! Or until her voice came back!

More wolves began to emerge, all at various angles and in an intimidating semi-circle manner, as she staggered to her feet. Some licked their chops, telling her – if the growls alone didn't – that she would soon be a tasty meal. Other bared wickedly sharp, white teeth. The one she'd seen first crouched, intent to bring her down for the rest of the pack.

Cori didn't know how fast wolves ran, or what kind of jump it would do – lunge, leaping into a run? – but didn't want to find out. She backed up five paces and threw herself at the tree like she was drowning. Her shoed feet scraped against the bark as she flailed, hoping to reach the lowest branch.

It wasn't high, by any means, but it was her gateway to the higher and safer branches. Taking a literal leap of faith, she pushed herself from the frightened clutch and swung her entire weight towards the waiting branch. A quick twist had her left hand resting firmly on the branch.

For five seconds.

The pain reflex was too great, like the one that pulls hands back from shockingly hot objects. She cursed her body and wounded hand. Hot bolts of pain caused her hand to spasm until she was forced to let go. Her hand didn't want to catch because her brain decoded the action as being painful and harmful to the stressed muscles.

Cori hit her back _hard_. The fall wasn't very long, but she was winded. Perhaps by fear. Perhaps by shock. Perhaps by pain. She didn't dwell on the possibilities long.

A chorus of growls grew closer. Coriander curled up as best she could, pinning her bad hand beneath her body. They had likely tracked the smell of her blood. She didn't want them getting at that so easily. It was smarter to use her uninjured hand – though it wasn't the dominant one – to protect her vulnerable throat.

_Fuck…I'm going to DIE! Why couldn't I have had a better last day?!_

Cori damned the universe, herself, and the family trip as she tensed up. She did her best to block out the snarls and sounds of clicking jaws. The wild animals fell silent.

Was that a ruse? she wondered? Were they trying to get her to lift her head?

Then, she felt it. A dull but recurring humming shaking the ground. The harder she listened, bad hand pressed up against the earth, the better she heard and felt it.

It wasn't a dull, recurring humming, but a consistent shake punctuated by pauses that were easy to miss. Relief flooded through her like her earlier rage. She knew what was going on when the leaves started jumping from tree branches and the trees, themselves, started shaking uncontrollably.

"HUUUULLLLKKKK'SSSSS!"

The throaty utterance was almost lost in the long roar. Big green feet slammed on the earth. Toes that curled like pitchfork tines dug up small hills of soil and dented the grass like flaming plane crash debris. One gnash of giant white teeth and a fur-ruffling snort had the wolves yelping and scattering.

Cori felt winded all over again. She'd bounced and smacked the earth as he landed, skidding to a stop in her unconventional resting place. Wide heels and soles peeled back sections of grass and dirt like a knife skinned fruit. Hulk's deep, raspy breaths fractured comparably fragile limbs and distributed clusters of leaves like they were confetti.

Her heart flopped, warmed, and flew when she felt those loveable green eyes land on her. His brows sloped in an expression that was purely Banner as he struggled to stoop towards her. Cori rose to meet him, rose to be enveloped in his heated comfort, but collapsed.

She'd forgotten about her hand and foolishly, reflexively, used it to support herself. Hulk could smell the copper. He gently wedged two fingers beneath her body, flexing his muscles until she safely pooled in the palm of his hand. Cori opened her mouth to apologize, to thank him, to cry, but Hulk's reverberating sweetness and whispery baritone silenced her.

"Hush."

Hulk needed no words. He was a primal creature. Though he didn't understand why it would happen to Cori, he understood being angry enough to seek solitude. He understood needing to run and be free and release it all.

She seemed to have gotten it all out of her system, he noticed, so words were even more irrelevant now. Nothing needed to be said because it was all over.

"Hush." Hulk petted her head, tracing large fingers over her crazy hair and soft face. He pressed her to his cheek, head gently tilted over her like a fleshy awning. Cori felt herself descending as Hulk shrank.

She absently wrapped her arms around his thinning neck, soon feeling them connect completely as Bruce Banner stood dazedly before her. "Just hush." he whispered sweetly, breathing in her scent and nuzzling deep into the warmth of her neck. They shared a few hungry, charged kisses before Bruce remembered his initial reason for changing.

Squinting, his eyes landed on her damaged hand. He wrestled with a piece of his tattered pants. Bruce smirked lightly in victory as he wound the strip around her pulsating arm and knuckles. Cori winced and hissed, but otherwise stayed quiet and grateful. Banner kissed each knuckle carefully before gazing at her with green eyes.

"Let's go." he offered, taking her unwounded hand firmly in his, "Your campsite's back this way."

"Bruce…thank you…" Cori felt herself choking up on new tears as they walked through the twist of trees with only the guide of moonlight and the Hulk.

"Shhh." he cooed, kissing the knuckles of the hand wrapped around his. "I don't want to see you cry. You don't need to cry anymore."

He was so sweet. Too damn sweet. She was glad he was here, though. She was glad he was hers.

Even if he hadn't said it directly, he was. He wouldn't be out here if he wasn't.

Coriander squeezed his hand. He squeezed back.

"Besides," he added in a light and lazy drawl, "if you can't see then we're both at a disadvantage. I don't have my glasses, remember?"

That was a lie. He could see perfectly when collaborating with Hulk like he was, but she'd play into it. It was his way of making her feel better. She kissed his cheek as they looped around another tree. Bruce led her in a southeasterly direction for almost an hour before the campground sign and first wooden house emerged.

Her family and several rangers were gathered at the gates. Orbs of light cut through the blackness and painted the grass blades.

"I asked them not to go in after you. I knew I could do it." Bruce explained.

He had a point, Cori silently admitted as she puckered her lips in a thinking face. One of them getting lost was bad enough. More of them disappearing would be chaos. Especially with children around.

"So…wait…they saw you?"

"Yep."

"And they…?"

"Accept me? Oh, I don't know. They'll certainly appreciate I've brought you back, though. Honestly, I don't care if they do. I just…"

"What was that last part?" her beloved scientist had drifted off into quiet multi-pitched mumbling and distracting gestures.

"I just…care if you do." Bruce repeated, flushing a bright red.

"I always will, Bruce. If you think otherwise I'll slap you so hard the Hulk will feel it. Got it?"

"He's laughing, you know." Bruce chuckled, showing her a bright and beautiful smile.

"Glad I could amuse him." Cori laughed back.

Brie's children crowded around her legs. Cori could feel their little hands squeezing her as tiny mouths struggled to press kisses through the fabric of her dirtied jeans. A pang of guilt ripped through her.

Should she feel guilty? They had been a factor in her attitude. But seeing them now, a huddled mess of tears and babbling forgiveness and how much they loved her, she couldn't. She just felt love.

She felt happy to be back and around her family.

Until the older ones spoke, of course. Cori was sure every venomous word and incredulous screech was meant in a loving manner, but failed to feel it.

It just felt like more annoying splinters beneath her fingertips.

"WHAT WERE YOU THINKING?!"

"HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO US?!"

"YOU ARE _SO _DRAMATIC! _JUST _like Honey!"

"Hey!" Bruce interjected loudly, none too happy. He could see why she ran away! "HUSH!" he hollered with authority and confidence.

These people were children to him, with exception of her parents. They were older, but not by much. In this situation, though, _he _had the strength and _he _called the shots.

"Most people would be happy to get their lost loved ones _back_, not ready to yell at them! I suggest you reorganize your priorities. Then say goodbye because I'm taking her back with me to New York!"

"You can't do that!" snapped Brie.

"Yes I can." Bruce smirked. He took it as a challenge. He could easily _carry _Cori back if he so desired. "Because, unlike you, I'm going to _ask_ her opinion instead of yelling at her. And, whatever she decides, I'll _listen_."

There was a small pause. Bruce assumed some were reflecting about the past couple of days, or were waiting to see what happened next.

"Cori," Bruce turned to her, "what would you like to do?"

"Go home. New York home." she said without missing a beat. "No offense, guys. But we need more time apart." her eyes swept briefly over every face.

"Alright then." Bruce tried to pretend that he wasn't nearly naked in front of her family, and that he hadn't yelled at them. "Say goodbye and we'll go."

"That Mr. Superhero Man flew a jet!"

"Very nice." she patted her nephew's head. "Give me a hug, a kiss, and tell Mr. Superhero Man thank you and goodbye!" encouraged Cori.

Her nephew did as he was told.

After doling out hugs and exchanging kisses Cori was gently directed towards the jet.

"WAIT!" cried her niece.

"What? I already gave you hugs and kisses!" Cori reminded gently in her 'nice' voice.

"Are you going to marry Mr. Superhero Man?"

"Yeah, marry a superhero!" added her brother.

"Hush." Cori mumbled, stomping towards the jet.


	34. Forget Me Not

We Need to Quit Meeting like This

* * *

**AN: **Thanks to Kassandra J, Dark Moons and Whispered Words, Miko Hayashi, Lollypops101, and Maymayliu for reviewing the last chapter.

Sorry my updating is slow. My work day is essentially 5:45 in the morning to 4:00 in the evening (including traffic to and from work) so, as you can imagine, I'm usually tired after work. The only calm days I have are Friday, Saturday, and Sunday. I'll do my best to update on those days.

Now some backstory on this oneshot's setting:

My idea for "Forget Me Not" is based off the idea that Loki escaped Asgard and returned to Earth. He learned from his last adventure, of course. Before ripping open a portal that connected Jötunheim with Earth, he cast a spell (by knocking out Heimdall and assuming his staff) to make the Avengers forget one another.

So, in short, the Avengers don't remember who they are, much less who they like or the fact that they were once a team meant to protect Earth (including Thor). Thor wants to intervene, can't really put his finger on why, and misses his chance to when Loki plummets to Earth and puts up a magic barrier. He put a condition on the barrier: Thor can't come through unless ALL of the Avengers remember who they are. Loki doesn't really think that will happen because he purposefully separates them, or tries to.

His reign extends only to New York, as he wants to torture the Avengers by screwing with their area. Some buildings are intact, a percentage of the population – those who bowed down to him – were saved and are either working in his self-made palace (a mix of ice and attacked buildings) or on the 'assembly lines' where refuse is turned into statues or homes for the patrolling Jötun soldiers. Jötun soldiers quickly and mercilessly killed the more annoying or rebellious people.

A group of rebel survivors has safely avoided capture and is hiding in abandoned subway stations or pockets within those stations. They take nightly risks of Jötun encounters to scavenge for food or what may be of use on the deceased bodies. Along the way they've collected newspaper fragments and memorabilia of their old life—it keeps the purpose and fight alive.

They keep seeing the same name: Tony Stark, Tony Stark, Tony Stark. They think he can build something to overthrow Loki, so they go looking for him. Unfortunately, he's in the heart of Loki's stronghold. Rebel leader Natasha devises a plan that will unknowingly draw all of the Avengers back together again—even if all of them aren't on the same side in the beginning.

Now that THAT'S over, here's the part everyone plays:

**Natasha** – rebel leader/assassin

**Clint** – top sharpshooter for Loki. Head of Jötun patrol units. He's unaware that Loki gave him amnesia and implanted false memories.

**Tony** – heavily guarded prisoner in the palace dungeons.

**Pepper** – appointed caretaker of said heavily guarded prisoner. Councilwoman to Loki.

**Steve** – laborer in the assembly lines. Works on building Loki statues and enhancing Jötun armor.

**Liberty** – head chef in palace kitchen.

**Cori **– trusted infiltrator of Natasha. One most likely to run missions for the rebel group.

**Bruce** – Staying low and hidden in a self-made underground bunker beneath a shabby-looking, deserted house. He likes being alone because he's scared about what he doesn't remember. He's aware of constant blackouts and regularly struggles with intense anger issues, but doesn't know why. Spends his time wondering how he always wakes up to find piles of food in his bunker when he doesn't recall going anywhere.

**Thor** – currently locked on Asgard. Waiting on Heimdall to wake up. Wondering why he feels so angry and strongly for Midgard.

Fury, Hill, and Coulson are presumed dead. No one knows because they can't remember them.

I may do little oneshots for the others, and just turn it into a little easy-to-find booklet.

Bruce and Cori are the only ones followed in this oneshot. Emery has not been born yet, but Bruce and Cori are married. Events from _Doctor Patient Confidentiality _are referenced.

* * *

Forget Me Not

"I'm going on another mission." Cori checked the knife strapped to her calf. By now, Natasha had learned she couldn't detain the girl. Physically, she could. When it came to emotions like determination…she was no match for that. Especially with two nieces and a young, confused nephew relying on her to keep them sane and safe. Coriander usually scavenged for food and new weapons, but Natasha betted that – somewhere, at the back of her mind – she was still looking for any signs of her sister or brother-in-law.

Or the one who gave her the ring on her finger.

"Be back before dark."

"I'll try. Don't freak out if I don't come back. It's likely that I hit a jam and had to stay hidden."

"Duly noted. Good luck."

Cori bundled up her somewhat sweaty and concrete-dusted wealth of raven hair before slipping fluidly out of the subway station and into the desolate, ravaged streets of Manhattan. Mountains of concrete and fragments of splintered road were both an arduous obstacle and a blessing. She always found a way to contort herself and fit in them. Being human, being smaller, left her at an advantage; the Jötuns towered over everything.

She saw them coming. Sometimes they didn't see her. Cori prayed she'd have one of those nights tonight.

Most magic- and ice club-vandalized stores were ripe for the picking. A lot of Manhattan citizens hadn't had time to properly stock up or hide. The insane now-overlord called Loki seized them fairly quickly. It was complete chaos that day—barked orders, streams of Jötun soldiers, a circle of magic copies, and pedestrians crying out as they tried to flee ice clubs, weave between crashing cars, and veer around otherworldly doubles. If not for holding her youngest niece in a body-mounted carrier, she probably would've lost her in the crowd.

Her sister had vanished. Whether it was in the sea of people, or by the hand of the overlord, she didn't know. She just remembered Brie screaming, "Save them! Save the kids!" as her own body responded automatically and innately with: _yes. Protect. Save. Shelter. Job. Mission. __**Duty**__._

Something in her had gone on autopilot that day. What it was, she didn't know.

Cori assumed it was the aunt in her. But something still pulsed at the back of her mind, like an ember or speck of light. _More…_ it whispered, _it's more_. There was no time to think of that, though. The children were her first priority.

She snatched them up with a quickness and somehow found shelter in the subway tunnels. The Jötuns had started stomping and swinging about the same time the city's electricity malfunctioned. Coriander assumed that, with no functionality, the subway would make a great place to lie low.

And it had.

A handful of rescued survivors – about thirty – were hiding out in various parts of the depowered beasts. Among them was a stunning woman with gorgeous eyes that oozed something wicked and serious. Cori felt burned the first time her green eyes locked with the woman's. The whisper returned, teasing her about the 'something more' she couldn't remember.

"You can't remember either, hm?" the redhead quirked an eyebrow at her. Cori nodded meekly. "It's exposure to that man's magic, I think."

"I don't know, but I'm going to find out. I _feel_ the holes and gaps in my memories. I don't want that. I want answers."

"Maybe we can help each other, then."

"How?"

"I've recently rediscovered I'm a fairly good fighter. Knocked out one of those ice bastard's teeth. I can protect your kids while you run missions for me."

"Why would I want to?"

"Because we want the same thing. And I watched you get the hell out of dodge when those creatures came. You're pretty fast. Lithe."

"Fine."

That conversation started a slew of hunting missions. Cori had hit-and-miss success. Most of the store food – the dairy and the meats – was rotten. Cereal made a regular appearance in their underground home. Natasha had a plethora of weapons on her person when the attack occurred – leaving Cori to believe she was some type of policewoman or part of a special government task force – and managed to get most of them to the lair.

It was because of those weapons – and the frightening power tucked away in her small frame – that canned foods were an option. Cori would _love_ to have a backpack, but couldn't find one. Aside from that, filling it with food would create noise. Noise attracted attention. Natasha deemed her the fastest and one of the most flexible, so she was often sent out alone to bring back whatever her arms could hold.

Cori made her way to the closest grocery store. This was her regular picking ground. She stooped into the jagged maw of glass and stretched her leg out far, extending over the shards to land, perfectly balanced and poised, on the edge of her toes. The first couple of times she pulled that off without bringing glass back to the lair, she was surprised.

At first glance, she didn't think herself that flexible. She couldn't really remember any training to become that way. Her body was a stranger, but a welcome one. Cori immediately went to the baby puffs and water.

Red baskets with grey handles were strewn across the messy store. Coriander thought about them every time she entered the store. She'd be able to carry a lot more back to the others if she used them, but was always too afraid. Puff snacks rolled softly in the canister as she looked down at it, and at the ring on her left hand.

She couldn't remember how it got there. It disturbed her, about as much as all the holes in her other memories. That ring symbolized marriage. If she was a wife did that mean she was also a mother? _I am now_, she thought to herself with a grimace, _I'm looking after Brie's kids. They NEED me._

It was the first time in months that she'd worked up the courage to dust off a basket. She loaded it with water, puffs, chips, cans of tuna, chicken, and ham, cereal, and crackers. Thinking of the antsy children with nothing to do, and the necessity of being quiet, she meandered soundlessly to an arts and craft section for crayons and paper. Coriander wound roll after roll of dark black tape around the basket, creating a sticky lid and harness-like design that would keep the goods anchored to her chest.

A newspaper caught her eye. It had the name 'Tony Stark' in big letters. Natasha followed this man religiously. Why, Cori couldn't fathom. Something about his lightly bearded face looked kind, though. His camera face was somewhat stoic and unimpressed, but Cori could imagine the laugh lines and childish smile.

Tony Stark, to her, had an endearing quality. Looking at him made her feel safe. She rolled up the paper and tucked it into her shorts. Cori wore the bare minimum on missions to reduce her chances of being snared. Manhattan was cold, what with all the Jötuns running around.

Her bra, panties, and shorts didn't help.

Cori checked for the massive ice giants. None were in direct sight so she took off. She'd take her head start when it showed itself. There was no telling how long or strong their arms were. Or how well they could see. She was about three blocks away from the station when the cool, rumbling exhale caught her off guard.

A plume of gentle, transparent iciness coaxed goose bumps from her pale skin. Something dragged across the broken gravel, skipping and buzzing like a rock trapped in a tin can. The sound was a bit hollower, though. And the noise, more grating. Like ice being shaved off.

_SLAM!_

"_ROOOOAAARRR!"_

Cori took off like a bullet, paying no mind to how the basket dug into her or how things shifted as she dashed across uneven terrain. A maze of streets unfolded before her, alongside a cantankerous alignment of cars. Her first instinct was to run and lose the creature. How she did it was of no consequence. Echoes of crying metal and the heavy impact of _something_ colliding with glass made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up.

The creature's heavy, lumbering steps resonated like the dropping of his club. Like thunder. Cori could hear it snorting more chilling mist as it hoped to snare and disable her. She cut a quick left, stumbling into a dismal and shabby-looking neighborhood some twenty minutes later.

Had the Jötuns already been here, or did it always look this way?

She gazed at a rainbow of graffiti. Glass crunched beneath her slowing feet. The bricks in older houses were old, moldy, and cracked. Bullet holes peppered the brick walls, storefronts, and wooden structures like strings of Christmas lights. Coriander felt the ground shake beneath her feet as the Jötun's club made contact with the already battered and pothole-stricken road.

A decent-sized crevice formed, and she narrowly threw herself out of it. She half-stumbled, half-crawled to the closest wooden structure. Though shaking and panicked beyond belief, Cori knew she could use the few seconds the Jötun spent struggling with the petty door to her advantage. The young girl unhooked the knife from its sheath and cut the provisions from her chest.

She hid under a table with three good legs and a stunted forth after hiding the provisions, catching her breath and trying to think of a plan of attack. The creature was huge! And had a club! All she had was a knife…

It was a knife her fingers couldn't grip firmly. She'd never actually faced a Jötun before. They'd never followed her before. Hell, she didn't even think they'd seen her! Something loud, deep, and angry would always call their attention away.

Her odd miracle had finally run dry. There was no startling but comforting guttural shout. Just silence.

Until the Jötun swung his club and detached the wooden roof like he was tearing through paper. Cori screamed, unable to help herself. Splinters of broken wood and chunks of the sagging roof fell inward.

* * *

Bruce sprang up with a vengeance as the muffled, hearty scream reached his ears. It had his nerves buzzing and his heart racing. His carefully acquired haven of chalkboard fragments, chalk, whiteboards, markers, notes, newspaper, a work table, tools, and textbooks had been threatened in mere seconds.

The pulse beneath his skin – so strong it seemed to jerk his limbs – was the only warning. Bruce hardly remembered what happened after it took over. He did recall his veins always turning green before passing out, though. Faded emerald spread up his twitching arm, darkening the higher it traveled towards his shoulder. Cursing himself, Bruce quickly worked his finger out of a golden wedding band.

He was relatively sure it was his. It had been on his finger when he'd awoken in a curious fuzziness around mangled machinery resting on a bed of broken glass. One of the first things Bruce did after finding shelter was take it off. Unfortunately, it didn't have his full name. A small part of him had hoped his significant other bothered to inscribe his full name.

But, he reasoned logically, that wouldn't be necessary. At the time he was married, his wife obviously knew him. And he obviously knew her…wherever she was.

If she was even alive anymore.

The only reason HE knew his first name was because of the partially charred documents bearing a few squiggles of a signature.

A howl escaped him, exploding forth viciously and painfully. If Bruce didn't know any better, he'd say the shout had _punched_ him in the mouth. Something in him thrummed; he felt like a motorized compass gearing up and pointing straight towards the commotion above. He headed for it soon after, vaguely attached to his own body.

The following events felt like a dream. Bruce felt suspended above his destroyed hideaway. A roar shook the remaining wood, the floor, and his bones. His soul.

That vibration rumbled deep and carried long – like the echo of a spiritual tuning fork. A young thing, slightly dirty and with a head of dark hair, seemed to catch the invisible note. Her wide green eyes smacked him harder than the cool club of the alien creature.

_KNOW…HER…_

It was the first time he'd heard another voice in his head. Bruce, because he was isolated and intellectually starved, often created hypotheticals and conversations with himself. They were always in his voice, though. Not the one he was hearing now. The man, who assumed he was some kind of scientist, listened, stupefied.

_KNOW…HER SMELL…_

_PROTECT…PROTECT—_

_I know_, he replied feebly, sensing the distress and frustration. It was an all-too-common feeling as he struggled to reassemble the broken pieces of his memories. The girl had to be important to raise that emotional brew. _I can't remember her either._

He didn't remember her, but he would save her. That impulse was too strong to deny. Bruce quickly terminated the threat, never one to let unnecessary interruptions annoy him. Logically, he knew he was controlling the body. That was the only explanation for why it was moving towards her shattered shelter that used to be his tiny table.

But why was it up so high? Why did he need to crouch? Why was the shadow of his hand much larger as it slid delicately over the curve of her waist?

She scuttled back, ignoring the stab of splinters in her palm as she blindly stumbled on heels and palms over broken furniture and segments of roof. Bruce advanced until she was pressed against a corner and nervously combing through her dark hair. Dirty, wood dust-laden strands laid back, flowing into partial curls over the crown of her head.

A violent tug, emanating from the center of his being, made him grunt.

_"What name?" he asked the little woman, watching the way his breath made her hair dance._

_"Coriander," replied the girl._

…

_"Name long," Hulk frowned. That may be hard to remember._

_"Call me Cori," said the girl._

"Co…ri."

That wasn't his voice, either. Banner felt alarmed. The little pale figure relaxed.

"Girl…Co…ri."

"Y-Yeah." she swallowed, nodding frantically. "M-My name's Cori."

"Know Cori."

"I think I'd remember someone like you, big guy." she laughed nervously. "Especially if you could do _that_." Cori's palms gradually slipped off the wall as she jerked her head in the direction of the Jötun's concaved chest and squished head. The giant creature made no move to harm her, so she wouldn't clam up. It was too tiring to do, anyways.

The horrible adrenaline of outrunning the Jötun and seeking shelter had done enough to her body. Days of pitiable portions for the sake and health of her kin didn't help. Giant green nostrils quivered quickly. A head of dark, somewhat curly hair dropped towards her until electric emerald eyes pinned her to the wall.

"Bleeding." observed the massive creature, pointing hesitantly at her wound. Somewhere between the scrambling and self-defensive curling, or maybe the structural collapse, the dagger had sliced into her leg.

"It is." Cori agreed, wincing as the sting of split skin and coppery scent of blood became apparent.

"Make better. Go down." Hulk – who had established his own identity from vague memories of 'Hulk smash!' – knew the Other Man kept medical things down below. It was one of the many pieces they felt drawn to. One of many Hulk was sure made them who they were. Coriander hesitantly climbed into the waiting cradle of his hands and allowed him to carry her to a hidden and rubble-covered trapdoor.

Snorting and growling filled the room. His fingers twitched angrily beneath her. _He must've just realized he's too big to get down there_, Cori frowned. He'd been pretty angry when fighting that Jötun.

She didn't want to incur the same wrath, if even by accident.

"I'll stay up here." she offered.

"No." he shook his head firmly. "Need treat. Need make better. Hulk just…need calm…like Other Man always say…"

"Other Man?"

"Cori see."

The gigantic form shrank down to reveal a man barely taller than herself. His skin was warmed by a slight tan, and much cleaner than her own. Lashes and flesh lids lifted up to reveal brown eyes. A lightning bolt catapulted from somewhere spiritual and unseen to stake her deep in the heart.

She _knew_ this man!

The nervous way he held her, hands sliding cautiously over her body as if he didn't want to touch her or couldn't figure out how, seemed strangely familiar. His musk was oddly comforting. Bruce's heart thrummed as he set her on his wooden table.

Was this déjà vu?

It felt like it. There was something about her being poised and bleeding before him. Something that seemed familiar. Something that inspired a nervous hovering that went beyond the obviousness of her being a woman and him being a man. Beyond him being _older_ than her.

Her face was contorted in a similar look of confusion. She, like him, was balanced on the precipice of realization. One wrong step – a second of distraction – could make the effort of the climb all for naught. Pale pink lips puckered in an unfinished syllable. He froze, almost able to _hear_ her nervous whisper.

"What?" he turned his eyes down to her cut. Bruce was desperate to know what had come to her, but didn't dare probe. That might push her off the cliff and into the darkness of uncertainty.

"Dr. Banner…" Cori blinked, largely stupefied.

Bruce quit wrapping her leg. That name sounded familiar. _Very _familiar.

Was that…was that him?

"_Hi…I'm Dr. Banner."_

"_Hi, Dr. Banner."_

Trembling with the searing pain and oncoming rush that was an enormous _ah ha! _moment, Bruce felt his eyes drop like heavy brown stones to the ring on her finger.

"_Coriander," Bruce started with a swallow. "I give you this ring as a symbol of my love. As it encircles your finger, may it remind you always that you are surrounded by my enduring love."_

_She squeezed his hands affectionately, feeling the tips and pads rub her own._

_"Bruce, I give you this ring to wear with love and joy. As a ring has no end, neither shall my love for you. I choose you to be my husband this day and forevermore."_

_"With the exchange of rings, before your friends and family, by the power vested in me, I pronounce you Mr. and Mrs. Robert Bruce Banner." stated the priest._

The pieces fell into place simultaneously, Bruce assumed, because all at once they were a tangle of limbs. All at once the world made sense and his protective instincts were explained. He'd wanted to take care of her because he'd been taking care of her long before they were married! And, as his wife, that treatment had never changed.

It had merely been interrupted by Loki.

Desperate kisses that reminded him of her abduction by Kleiser stole his breath. Her tongue moved and swirled in the tantalizingly hypnotic fashion it had the night they collapsed together in Tony's study while she was heavily intoxicated. Bruce groaned from deep within his chest, thoroughly pleased. Coriander's affection filled him like the sweetest of wines.

Bruce nibbled and sucked on her lovely, slightly dry mouth until he'd gorged himself into a lover's daze.

Panting, nearly straddling her in his efforts to lean into her and become as close as they had once been before the madness, Bruce enjoyed the sight beneath him. They were finally one again. The set of rings were complete, and so were they.

"Don't you _ever_ forget me again!" Bruce murmured against her cheek, nuzzling it.

"Only if you promise to do the same." returned Cori in the same breathy whisper as she pressed his neck and cheek to her face.

"I promise." Bruce kissed her skin.


	35. Talk Dirty to Me (Part I)

We Need to Quit Meeting like This

* * *

**AN: **Thanks for the reviews on the last chapter Maymayliu, Lollypops101, and kiwi8fruit!

To Maymayliu: there's more I wanted to put in there, but I'm still working the larger picture out. I didn't want to half-ass something by including a twist and not knowing what I'd do with it, you know?

The more I'm thinking about it, the more I'm considering turning _Forget Me Not_ into a real story with multiple pairings. I should have a verdict between Friday and Sunday, as those are my free days to update and plan.

But, I might just as well disappear this weekend to work on original stuff :D. It all depends.

"Talk Dirty to Me" (the REAL one) is my next intended oneshot for this booklet. After this one. This one is like a warm up for me. And I just wanted to play with this idea, haha.

In this oneshot Tony – that scamp! – decides to modify Bruce's watch to the point where it says what he's really thinking and feeling (by analyzing his hormones, etc.). Consider this the first – and maybe _only_ – 'part I' seen in this booklet.

Hilarity ensues and blatant sexiness abound (meaning some crude language)! That is your warning.

Enjoy!

Note: the watch's parts are in bold.

This is short because I have to get up and go to work tomorrow. Not proof read. Will do so tomorrow after returning from work.

* * *

Talk Dirty to Me (Part I)

"I don't need that anymore, Tony. Not since the Smash Room." Bruce waved off his friend. He didn't even bother to look at the watch. It was unnecessary to do so after wearing it for almost twenty years. And, truth be told, he didn't _like _looking at it.

All he saw in it was a limiter. A warning system. A reminder that he would never be normal again. The sting of reality ran as deep as the watch could squeeze, and it was a constant hug on his wrist.

"It's for science, Bruce."

"It always is with you, Tony." Bruce pointed out, lolling his head back lazily to gaze at his friend from the corner of his brown eyes.

Unflustered, Tony continued, "I think you've made great strides with The Other Guy. I'd even bet that you've broken your old limits. Why not find out?"

"Why is it necessary?"

"So you'll put yourself back on the map and _live_, Bruce. Stark Solutions is behind you in the full, as am I. You need to quit hiding and resurface. _Live_, Bruce."

"A watch can't help me live, Tony."

"But it can provide cold hard facts, which you like."

"Fine." grumbled Bruce, resisting the urge to snatch the device from Tony's hand like a petulant child pestered into something unattractive. He strapped it on, frowning at the familiar constriction about his wrist.

The shackles were on again.

"Atta boy, Brucie!"

* * *

"Hey, Bruce! Resurfacing for a late lunch?" joked Cori, who'd just returned to Stark Tower after a dance session.

Bruce grumbled something nonsensical and soft as he quickly averted his eyes from the long, ropey expanse of her feminine legs. Toned legs. Dancers legs. Legs in incredibly tiny shorts that might as well be underwear.

Legs that would look really good around his waist.

"**I love your legs**," Bruce had a miniature panic attack. He was thinking that, but where did it come from?! Thankfully, it wasn't him. That voice sounded _nothing _like him!

Actually…it sounded like JARVIS.

"Tony!" hissed Bruce, glaring at the watch. If his friend was on the other end, or controlling his watch, he was silent about it.

The watch, unlike his possibly responsible friend, was not quiet. "**They'd look nicer around my waist. Even **_**better**_** with nothing on them.**"

It was the first time since the gamma ray-charged explosion that he was twitching from sheer anxiety. Not rage. Not because of The Other Guy.

He didn't know whether to panic and run – that was a strong influence – or stand there like a deer in the headlights and see how this awkwardness panned out. Coriander was usually good with jokes, and quite sharp.

Flirty and sharp most of the time. She was usually sardonic and falsely insinuated things to keep up with Tony.

For once, given the situation, he prayed she stayed quiet.

Or fainted. That would truncate this horrifyingly mortifying oddity before it got any worse.

Cori's snack of peanut butter on celery fell from her lips. Her cheeks darkened with blood rich and colorful enough to make a raspberry jealous.

"Um…_what_?" the incredulous response, if she'd worn any other expression, would've sufficed as a sharp knife wound. But it didn't. She was adorably, terribly confused. Her pink cheeks and wide eyes gave a stuttering virgin accent to her whispery inquiry.

Bruce felt his pulse thrum.

_Okay, it's alright so far._ he told himself.

_Oh it's BETTER than alright, man! _cheered Teenage Bruce, _We just surprised her! She LIKES us like this!_

_But we're not USUALLY like this_, reminded Bruce. Sometimes he forgot that he wasn't supposed to talk to those other parts of him. They had allegedly dissipated since he'd dealt with his childhood trauma. In times like these, though, identities like Teenage Bruce were a blessing. Someone giving him the green light – if even a part of himself, a voice in his head – made those wants and dreams and torturously hot fantasies feel normal and appropriate.

_And she digs it. Wouldn't you act this way – if only for today – if it got you THAT?_

_But if she loves this, then she doesn't love me._

_Yes she does, you moron! You've just been sending mixed signals! That gaffe just let her know we're throwing out an invitation, too!_

_Are you sure?_

_Say something else. Trust me._

"Are you okay, Bruce?" Cori quickly closed the distance between them. She put a hand to his forehead worriedly. Bruce Banner did _not _say things like this!

Even if she dreamed about him murmuring lusty, growling nonsense into her ear as they intertwined in already-braided sheets

Bruce felt his pulse beat thickly in his neck as beads of sweat began to form. This was a very interesting and terrifying situation.

On the one hand, he was confessing.

On the other, she was somewhat sweaty – fresh from her session – and unknowingly exuding hormones. Hormones that struck the most important note of a heavenly, primal chorus in his mind and loins.

"I'm fine." he stammered, brown orbs nervously bouncing about.

"**Why, do you want to check me?**" the watch seemed to purr, "**You can find my pulse in my neck and thigh, among other places. I prefer the thigh**."

"What's going on, Bruce?"

"Tony made me a watch that says things."

"Things?"

"Y-Yeah." Bruce tried to shrug it off like it was another one of Tony's pranks.

Cori shuffled nervously from foot to foot. "What kind of things? Like…is this another one of Tony's tests to see how far you'll go before Hulking out?"

"No." Bruce wrung his hands nervously. "It's just...it's like a truth serum...in a watch."

"Oh. _Oh_. Ohhhh…" Cori's face switched from surprise, to embarrassment, and then to something sly and amused. His heart fluttered as embers of lust and want flared, fanning throughout his body on the wind of approval her eyes stirred and commanded.

"**You have some very dangerous looks on you. Dangerous for you, I mean**."

"For me?" Cori blinked innocently, one hand floating up to cup her own cheek. "Why, what on earth do you mean, Dr. Banner?"

"You know damn well," Bruce growled. Or maybe it was the watch. Either way, his point was being made.

"Do I?" Cori dared to trace the collar of his shirt and slide the tip of her index finger down to the top of a rounded button. "You're always so quiet. How could I possibly know?"

Partly unable to help himself, inspired by her attitude and emboldened by the assistance of his cruelly fabulous watch, Bruce seized her hips. One hand hastily abandoned the curve of her hips to find purchase at the nape of her neck. Coriander found her neck extended until her lips were a hair away from Bruce's.

She instinctively put her hands on his chest. Coriander had no way of knowing, in those sparse seconds, whether he'd pull her completely to him or halfway. His heart pumped strongly beneath her hands. Ragged breaths and quick snorts hinting at his fraying self-control filled the space between them.

"**You won't be able to lie so cutely after I'm done with you. You'll be lucky to **_**whisper**_."

Bruce dove at her mouth. Cori inhaled sharply at the somewhat abrasive but warm feel of his high cheekbones and freshly shaved skin. Her blazing stomach coiled in on itself, as if trying to quench the burning and isolate the giddy tautness in her. The adamant squeeze of his fingers falling individually and steel-like across the skin of her arms locked her in his sights.

His embrace. His passion.

This is the Bruce she'd imagined, if only a few times. The real man behind the worry and doubts. The desperate romantic behind the fear. He'd uncorked the side she feared he didn't have after spending so many years alone. She'd found that side of him – in spades and seemingly depthless proportions.

That was fine. She could drown in him all she liked.

He finally released her mouth, allowing Cori to breath in necessary oxygen. The cliché bright lights of heaven refocused to assume the lighter strokes in his brown eyes. The accompanying chorus was a menagerie of the sounds they made, and ones she soon hoped they'd make. Dark lashes fluttered lazily over half-lidded eyes. "I'm still talking." Cori cooed devilishly, caution thrown to the wind now that Banner's inner animal had found a voice.

Now that it – _he_ – said she was wanted.

Bruce couldn't define the growl that escaped him. It was equal parts frustration and male. Though wordless, it served as a perfectly clear warning. He – _they_ – were not to be disturbed until he was thoroughly finished with his woman.

"**Enjoy that while you can. It'll be disappearing in the next five seconds."**

"Oh yeah?" Cori couldn't help but bait him. Banner was so…so fiery and determined and focused and _she _was the cause of it all.

Should she feel bad? She didn't.

Cori felt consumed by a wanting fire and hypersensitive from the near-palpable electricity between them. Banner heaved her over his shoulder, too frisky to carry her heroically or sweetly to the bedroom. He was nothing but want and need on legs. She went up and over his shoulder so he could grab freely at the luscious ass that dared tease him in that meager amount of cloth.

Coriander kept her keening to a minimum as one slightly calloused hand massaged the globes of her bottom. She gave a tangible jolt and kicked her legs out as one of his fingers quickly and shamelessly burrowed between the fabric and her panties. "Bruce!" she half-yelped, folding into his shoulder to muffle the noise, "What about the bedroom?!"

"I'm getting there." he grumbled into her stomach. "I didn't say I'd start in there."

Did he just nip her stomach?

Oh fuck she was on _fire_! Cori bit her lip as a high note of ecstasy slipped past her clenched teeth. Bruce responded with a throaty note of victory as a second finger joined the one slicked in her juices. He pinched and rolled her clit mercilessly, greedily, as one hand fumbled with the door to his bedroom.

His first instinct was to throw her on the bed and straddle her. Pin his little mate beneath his body. Dominate as Hulk so often did.

Cori was flying – physically this time. It was all a fantastic whirlwind of heat and pleasure unlike anything she'd ever felt. Bruce, _Bruce Banner – _shy, quiet, respectful scientist _Bruce Banner _– had thrown her onto his bed like some bag of treasure from a long, arduous and glorious conquest. He hovered over her, determined to keep the ivory spoils for himself.

She assumed he would clamber atop her purposefully and claim her mouth, but he didn't. Cori kicked her legs up as Bruce buried his face in her clothed nether regions. "Bruce!" she squeaked, "Really, Bruce?! C'mon, Bruce!" Cori didn't know whether she was begging or exasperated.

His teeth scraped against her aching sex. Banner's heavy, hot breaths had her breaking into a cold sweat.

"**You don't get to rush me**," she heard the watch say. Bruce fingers speared into her flimsy waistband and ripped the athletic shorts down to her knees. He was too occupied to talk. He was too busy putting her on the tips of her toes and swirling that articulate tongue in all kinds of heinously wonderful patterns. "**I've waited on this for a **_**long**_** time. I'm going to milk every second of it. Understand?"**

"Y-yeahah-_yes_!" Cori gasped, clenching fistfuls of his cute curls in her hands. Banner gave her a particularly long, deep stroke with his lingual muscle as a reward. She felt his kisses sear a trail down her side, across her sex, to the other thigh, and back again. The bed was already beginning to creak with the anticipatory thrusting of his hips.

Bruce was a marathon runner and she was the track. Somewhere between the blinding stars and echoes of his growls, and her cries, Cori imagined he'd been training for this. Praying for this since the Hulk first made an appearance.

All of his pent-up arousal was being portioned carefully and ruthlessly across her body. Bruce started at her thighs, distributed love bites from her stomach to her chest, and honed in on her breasts like a runner honed in on the home stretch. Cori cried out, the first orgasm ripping through her like she was nothing but a finish line ribbon compared to his juggernaut passion.

Pleased by her outcry, stimulated by the tremors of her body and the disbelieving look that could've easily been bottled nirvana painted green, Bruce continued to work his jaw over her sore nipples.

He'd always wanted to see if a hickey would show up on a bosom.

All in the name of science, of course.

He briefly wondered if Tony had expected his experiment to go this far. If he'd been looking for these kinds of readings.

Well…his experiment was working. The Other Guy had yet to make an appearance. Bruce assumed he was too stunned to. Usually The Other Guy did all of the bold talk. He detached from her delicious, bruised nipple to breathe.

The prick of keratin life rafts in his neck brought him back slightly. Enough to realize her lower half was bare, he'd ripped her shirt, and that he was unfairly clothed.

"That's it?" Cori managed to drawl, largely dazed.

It simply couldn't be so! Not after she'd tried so hard to get his attention! Not after they'd done an antsy jig on either side of that curious line where 'friends' and 'lovers' met!

"**Not even close**." Bruce's mouth melded to the base of her throat and suckled its way up to the space behind her ear.

"You're still talking, remember?" Bruce told her with his own voice. Her toes curled as hot amber rocks dropped down to gaze at her. To consume her. To commit her to memory.

Biting her lips, pissed off but not exactly loathing of how easily he coaxed her second orgasm from her already needy and tortured body, Cori emitted a noise that was part whimper and part coo.

Bruce chuckled, brushing his lips across the shell of her ear. "Maybe I'll enjoy your voice for a little while longer." his finger massaged affectionately at the base of her throat before snaking around to cradle the nape of her neck.

He kissed up her cheeks and towards her forehead.

"I love you, Bruce." Cori whispered into his neck. "Beyond the physical. I just love—"

"I love you, too." Bruce shushed her by kissing her lips, feather light. Cori closed her eyes as he kissed each lid with care and delicacy. "And I want to _keep _loving you. After this."

"Never stop." Cori begged, wrapping her arms around him as he began to shift.

"I don't think I could…even if you asked me to." Bruce didn't look the least bit regretful as their eyes locked. That gaze held for a few quiet, sweet seconds before he turned his attention back to the valley of her breasts. Heat rebuilt in Cori's abdomen as he worked his way towards her navel.

"_I don't think I could…even if you asked me to."_

He showed no signs of stopping, intending to repeat the exploratory process of her young, fit body.

"**This is what you get for talking dirty to me."**


End file.
